Master's Apprentice
by Need2Scream
Summary: Ratchet is cranky, loud, impatient, and rough around the edges. So how did he get an apprentice like First Aid who is soft, patient, gentle, and kind? First in AU arc "Street True"
1. Chapter 1

Ratchet threw the doors open and strode into the moon base med bay, optics like sniper scopes. Fragging _Prowl_, had to frag up the already stressful and irritating process of selecting an apprentice. And the glitch had the fragging nerve to act like it was a mistake. A growl worked its way up his vocalizer. The handful of medics and assistants brave enough to stick around after his whirlwind entrance scrambled for cover. Good. He was in no mood for incompetence or looking for the head medic of this bay.

A door near the back of the bay opened and an older medic walked out. "I just messaged him, he'll be here in a breem." Faded red and chipped blue paint belayed the clipped tone. Ratchet tried not to glare at him. Tried. His fury with their SIC was still volcanic and just as indiscriminate. The medic didn't bother introducing himself and he already knew who Ratchet was. "I'd be looking at the next class coming up," the medic's irritated tone couldn't hold a match to Ratchet's smoldering anger. "He looks good on paper, but, Primus, the glitch is just a placeholder until you get a good one." He waved his hand like he was dismissing the apprentice's very existence. Ratchet growled again. He'd already been looking at the next batch of graduates.

"Hello?" A soft voice asked from behind Ratchet. Ratchet whipped around and honed in on the small red and white apprentice. Deep ocean blue optics still as wide a sparkling's looked back at him before dropping to the floor. He bent under the heavy glare but he didn't run screaming.

"Let's go," Ratchet said, leaving the room with the same bombastic force he had entered it. The _Ark_ was already off course for this detour and they had scheduled bases they needed to get to. He had almost ground his denta into shavings just waiting to disembark and pick up the little glitch. The crew was not going to wait another breem for them. If the apprentice couldn't keep up he'd just deal with the flak from the Iacon Medical Academy for not having an apprentice this cycle.

His audios picked up the sound of small feet a few strides behind him, tapping quickly on the tile to keep up. "My name is First Aid," a quiet voice said, reaching to Ratchet like a verbal handshake.

"I know," he snarled. The apprentice didn't try to speak to him anymore. Ratchet's heavy feet hit the tiles like artillery shells and even though he strode down the middle of the hall, mechs and femmes tripped over themselves to avoid him.

The _Ark_ came into view a breem later and Ratchet didn't break stride going up the ramp, knowing Red Alert would be waiting. The door slid open two steps before Ratchet reached it. His next step was shortened a bit by surprise. Waiting on the other side of the door Red Alert's deep violet optics flashed with lightning. His burgundy armor shone dully in the light, more suited for shadows instead of glittering in sunlight like the Twin Terrors. And standing fearlessly next to him, the target of Ratchet's unmitigated fury; Prowl.

His armor didn't shine, his crimson optics more predacon than Cybertronian. Ratchet growled at him, much like a canine predacon. Prowl didn't spare him a glance. "First Aid," Prowl's soft low voice made Ratchet's optic twitch. "Welcome to the _Ark_, I'll take you to your quarters."

Ratchet snarled at him. "That is _my_ apprentice, I'll fragging take him."

Prowl's steady gaze was like staring into a pool of lava. There was more beneath the molten surface, but how deep it went was anyone's guess. It was almost dizzying. "This is a very dramatic change for him, I would like the transition to be a smooth as possible and your current state is not conducive to that. His first shift is tomorrow morning." No anger, no sarcasm, no admonishment colored his tone. Every word spoken like fact. Ratchet had a wrench in his hand before he consciously thought of grabbing it. An electrical flare from Red Alert's sensor net knocked the wrench off its trajectory for Prowl's head. It clanged loudly against the wall behind them. Neither one flinched, Prowl's fathomless optics never left Ratchet's face.

Turning away without fear of another wrench or scanner or welder coming at him he softly told First Aid to follow him. First Aid came into Ratchet's peripheral but didn't immediately follow the SIC. A slight tilt from his head indicated he was looking between his mentor and Prowl, trying to decide whose order he was supposed to follow. Ratchet snarled in wordless rage once more. "Give me my wrench back you son of a three port pleasure bot, and you," he snapped at the small apprentice. "Stay the frag out of my sight until your fragging shift and _don't be late_." The apprentice cowered and followed Prowl without another word.

"Ratchet," Red Alert's voice was heard more often than Prowl's but it was still a little startling when he spoke. "You can be angry as you'd like with Prowl and myself, but I will ask that you refrain from unleashing your wrath on an innocent juvenile." Violet optics didn't watch him, but the bowed head of his apprentice.

"You don't like how I talk to an apprentice, send him to someone else," Ratchet seethed. Red Alert's optics turned on him and the effect was almost as unbalancing as Prowl's. Unlike Prowl who had a center of a slightly darker red, Red Alert had none. A solid ellipse of shifting violet flashed every few breems with blue or white lightning depending on what was triggering his sensor net. He didn't speak, he didn't have to. Only Prowl could hold his disconcerting stare for more than a breem. Ratchet turned on his heel and walked away.

**oOo**

Ratchet walked into the dispensary that night still in a poisonous mood, but less inclined to lash out now that the _Ark_ was almost back on scheduled course. Unsurprisingly, there had been few injuries in the med bay and everyone had been present and on time for their appointed checkups. No one on the ship, not even the slagging twins, were willing to risk their afts when Ratchet was this angry. Even Blaster and Jazz had kept the music at a tolerable level for most of the orn. Next door, though, in the rec room, a heavy bass beat started thumping. Ratchet curled his lip but restrained his anger. It was quiet enough he wouldn't be able to hear it two floors up in his quarters.

For the most part, the dispensary wasn't overwhelmed by noise either. He sat at a table, away from the adjoining rec room wall, and tried to relax the coils of anger squeezing his spark. He'd had the perfect apprentice picked out, had picked her out a vorn before she graduated, and had all the paperwork in order to request her. It was the culmination of a decacycle of careful research on accreditation scores and instructor notes on each and every student in the Iacon Medical Academy. Some hadn't made it past the third accreditation test, some had fallen short, but she'd been flawless from the beginning. High scores, excellent notes, and he'd been in hot competition with several of his respected peers for her.

And then Prowl _lost_ his paperwork.

She'd been gone in a breem and by the time Prowl had told him he needed to resend every mech and femme he'd looked at had been snapped up.

There were still holes in the med bay walls that needed to be patched. Hoist had taken refuge in Wheeljack's lab. And after he'd thoroughly exhausted the brunt of his fury and frustration Prowl had the alloy to offer a solution. He still hadn't read First Aid's file, and he had no inclination to do it. Like the medic on the moon base had said, he was just a placeholder, something to appease the chairs at the Academy until the next graduating class. They wouldn't allow him as a seasoned battlefield and bay medic to not take an apprentice. Medics were in short supply, they couldn't afford anyone of age to not take an apprentice, even for a cycle.

The angry circle of his thoughts was broken up by a familiar, if not annoying, voice. "This is the dispensary and there's one on C deck but I think it's just for the officers up there since I've never seen anyone else in there but there's really no reason for anyone to go up there because the rec room everyone uses is right here and you'll have to meet Jazz and Bumblebee and Blaster and especially Wheeljack and Hound and we probably shouldn't introduce you to the twins tonight because they can be kind of scary—" Bluestreak continued to ramble as he walked into the room with First Aid a few steps behind. Ratchet's sour mood blackened again when he saw the apprentice. Similar in size to Bumblebee, the apprentice had an even lighter frame than the scout. He could never be a battlefield medic, it was a Primus given miracle the little glitch hadn't tripped and crushed his spark casing.

"Bluestreak, mute it," Ratchet snapped. The Praxian's wings dropped and folded close to his body, First Aid cringed like he was expecting physical blow to accompany the sharp words. Bluestreak lapsed into silence and a faint echo of guilt flitted through Ratchet's spark when the Praxian juvenile's wings stayed closed and tight in fear. He handed a cube of energon to First Aid and then took his hand and led him quickly from the room, never once breaking his silence.

Once they were out of the room, the lights snapped off, leaving him alone in almost complete darkness. Ratchet tried to find the rage that had been sustaining him for the last septorn but a barrier of contrition kept him from it. His mood had everyone on the _Ark_ wary and now he'd scared Bluestreak. The young Praxian probably wouldn't come near him for another septorn. He still glared in the general direction of the camera mounted in the corner to his left. If the glitch Red Alert locked him out of his quarters there really would be Pit to pay.

**oOo**

**A/N:** I don't know what it is, but it's so easy writing a furious Ratchet. Everyone is going to be OOC in this and Prowl's and Red Alert's color schemes have been heavily altered. There's a purpose to it. This is the start of fairly extensive retelling of Transformers and the oddities will make more sense as more stories are added.


	2. Chapter 2

Five breems before his scheduled shift, the small apprentice slipped through the med bay doors. He kept his head low, but his optics roamed over everything. He stood just out of the way and didn't say anything to Ratchet or Hoist who busied himself cataloguing supplies in brittle silence. Trailbreaker was supposed to be the first appointment for the day for a virus patch upgrade. They'd had to tear down his firewalls after he picked up a retrovirus on some base. Luckily, he was a sturdy mech and Red Alert could work wonders and miracles with circuits.

On the heels of his thoughts, the large black mech strolled into the med bay, one of the very few who didn't seem to fear Ratchet's black mood. His impenetrable force field probably gave him a confidence boost. If Megatron's fusion cannon couldn't get through it, Ratchet's wrench wouldn't. "There, now," Ratchet snapped at him pointing to a berth two away from the door. Trailbreaker's pace didn't change and he smiled at First Aid.

"Hey'a, I'm Trailbreaker," his soft voice didn't fit his large frame but the black mech wasn't one to intimidate like Ironhide. First Aid didn't respond verbally. Ratchet waved him over with a curt gesture. The small apprentice stood out of arm's reach with his head bowed, small shoulders not quite hunched. Trailbreaker didn't pay attention to Ratchet, his cerulean eyes on First Aid and a small frown on his faceplates.

"What do you know about firewall patches?" Ratchet snapped. He already had the program downloading, but he might as well find out how useful the glitch could be. If he could keep him busy for a cycle doing the tedious work of patch upgrades that would free up time for Ratchet to scan the upcoming graduating class for a new apprentice.

First Aid's voice was softer than Trailbreaker's but without the depth and fullness of the black mech's tone. "I can create and repair S-1 through S-7." A chip of Ratchet's irritation dropped off. The last medic hadn't wasted time making him useful. He had two more patch upgrades scheduled well within the realm of the apprentice's skills. One of them was the pit-forsaken Blaster who had picked up the same virus as Trailbreaker and not fared as well. He'd been off active duty and in quarantine for a septorn. "Fine. You have two patches that will be here in the next joor and then you can get out."

Trailbreaker's patch upgrade was over in a few breems, his sturdy firewalls acclimating to the patch without a hitch. Ratchet pointed to the door when the program was done downloading. Trailbreaker lingered a breem, a troubled look on his face. First Aid retreated to where he had been and stilled until he was nothing more than an odd decoration.

Ratchet ignored the apprentice as he went through medical reports and updates from bases, roster updates for new medics sent from Iacon, and the new profiles of upcoming graduates he'd procured.

His concentration was broken by the unmistakable sound of music heading toward the med bay. The floor vibrated and loose instruments rattled, the audio shattering decibels brought First Aid's head up. He ventured a few steps out of his corner with his head cocked to the side listening as the song grew louder and nearer. Ratchet snarled and threw an old wrench out the door. "_Blaster, fragging mute it!_" The song cut off and a second later the wrench flew back into the med bay and clanged off the wall next to Ratchet's head hard enough to dent. First Aid jumped back with a yelp but Ratchet stared hard at the red and gold mech swaggering into the med bay.

He only threw the old wrenches at Blaster and the Primus cursed Prowl because they liked to take them and hide them in odd places. It was Red Alert who threw them back. Blaster gave Ratchet a feral grin, nothing friendly in his demeanor. "Hey'a _Hatch-et_." His husky voice carried a hissed whisper of violence and Ratchet's temper cooled as quickly as it had come. He continued staring at the named communications officer and the best sniper in living memory if not longer. After too long exiled and imprisoned on the uncolonized planet Tyger Pax, Blaster had developed and maintained some animalistic behaviors. It had taken Ratchet decacycles to figure out how to read his body language. The direct stare and exposed fangs in his smile were heavy indicators he was looking for a fight.

"Is your firewall glitching again," Ratchet snapped. If he could get Blaster talking he was less likely to attack. "I fragging told you not to use those decibels in confined spaces, you'll deafen everyone and I'm not fragging replacing all those ruptured audios!" Blaster's smile widened, more snark than threat.

Sapphire optics reflected the med bay lights as he continued staring at Ratchet. His chest plates slid apart and Steeljaw and Lockjaw emerged like shadows in silent menace. Lockjaw's cracked diamond-like optics looked Ratchet over once before she turned to First Aid with a dismissive flick of her tail. The apprentice crouched down a small wondrous smile on his face. "Symbiont?" he asked softly. "All the texts said they'd gone extinct," he said with a more confusion. Blaster flicked his fingers in an unrecognizable gesture. Probably something lewd. Ratchet growled at him but didn't turn his back just yet. Steeljaw still glowered at him with a lip curled flashing his long canines.

"Can't believe everythin' you read, din't anymech tell you that?" Blaster said flicking First Aid's helm. The apprentice ducked his head but stood with a small smile on his face. "Femme is Lockjaw." He pointed to the lioness sniffing First Aid's leg and then to the lion still glaring at Ratchet. "Mech's Steeljaw an' Rewind is somewhere causin' trouble."

"Are they as old as you?" First Aid asked, optics bright and flashing with unfiltered curiosity. Ratchet huffed and turned to go back to his office. Lockjaw snorted and Blaster laughed. "You're here for a virus patch, right? Do they need the patch too or does it transfer?"

Ratchet glanced over his shoulder when he heard the question. It wasn't something he thought an apprentice would know to ask. There were full-fledged medics who didn't know to ask that question.

"Firewalls are permeable, probably how I picked up the slag in the first place," Blaster said, shoving Steeljaw's rear with his foot. The lion swatted his leg and stalked out of the room. "Take the fleas wit' ya," Blaster yelled. First Aid giggled.

"I have other patients today," Ratchet snapped. "Get your aft in gear, Blaster." He regretted drawing Blaster's attention back to him as soon as the mech looked at him. Whatever humor he was portraying for First Aid was a lie. Embers of red burned in the depths of his optics. He was still very angry and all of that considerable rage was now pointed at Ratchet.

"Sorry _Hatchet_, wouldn't want to keep you from orderin' those replacement parts," Blaster hissed. Not hard with the damage to his vocalizer. It was probably easier to make the more menacing tones than the happy ones.

Ratchet gave him an odd look. He had sent Blaster a direct request that morning to notify Iacon he wanted upgraded files on the next graduating class. First Aid picked up the tools he needed to install the patch. "If your firewalls are sturdy enough I'll do a boost to make sure the transfer is complete to your symbionts," he whispered.

"Sounds good lil' mech." It was odd, hearing the cheerful words and seeing the rage in Blaster's optics. Not for the first time Ratchet was reminded that he was woefully outclassed in wit, skill, and firepower when it came to the pack members onboard. Lockjaw's glittering optics stared at him. Of all the painful stares he had encountered over the vorns from the spark broken to the dying, hers was always the worst.

Sitting down at his chair, the enraged fire that had sustained him for the last septorn finally extinguished. Between the guilt of scaring Bluestreak the night before and now Lockjaw's horrible broken stare he couldn't find the wrath. Rubbing his optics he clicked open the files he'd requesting, skipping through the first five without bothering to read more than the first few sentences.

A few breems and a dozen graduates later he stilled. "Replacement," he said out loud. "Re…placement." He jumped up from his chair and looked out into the med bay. First Aid sat with his arms wrapped around his knees still and quiet in his corner again, Blaster was gone.

The apprentice couldn't see him through the two way mirror on the other side. His sparkling wide optics roamed over the med bay slowly as if he was trying to memorize the details. "Replacement parts," Ratchet repeated. He glanced at the open file on his datpad and cursed from one end of the alphabet to the other. Throwing open the door he stormed out. First Aid scrambled to his feet. "Where'd the glitch go?" Ratchet snapped.

"I…I don't know. He didn't say…sir." Ratchet left the med bay cursing about useless apprentices and pit-spawned street sparks and threw in a few sparkfelt curses at Prowl too. Wheeljack's lab door slid open as he stalked past and the inventor paused, watching him stomp down the halls. Wisps of smoke coming off his forearms and soot on his hands.

"I'm not putting you back together this septorn, Wheeljack," Ratchet yelled.

"Good thing you got an apprentice," the inventor shot back. Ratchet winced and whirled around. Wheeljack despite his considerable size, didn't start or enjoy fighting of any kind. The inventor was already strolling down the hall to the med bay, pointedly ignoring him. Ratchet was torn for a full two seconds between wanting to chase down Wheeljack and demand what the frag he meant by that and wanting find Blaster and do the same thing. The inventor looked into the med bay and gave First Aid a fond greeting, still ignoring Ratchet staring holes through his spark chamber.

"Primus Ratchet, give it a rest will you," Hoist said coming out of Wheeljack's lab wiping his hands on a dirty towel. Ratchet blinked in surprise, he hadn't noticed Hoist had left. "You've been on a warpath to make Megatron proud for almost a septorn, just let it go already."

The plates along the top of Ratchet's head rose. "You have no idea what a waste of time this is," Ratchet snarled. "What's the point of apprenticing somemech who's going to wash out anyway!"

Hoist didn't relent. "How do you know?" he countered. "You've barely said a dozen words to him and none of them have been friendly." That stung a little but Ratchet brushed it off.

"Look at him! You think he'll last a breem on a field with shells and snipers?"

"What's his file say?" Hoist asked putting a hand on his hip.

Ratchet threw up his hands. "I don't know, I haven't read it." Hoist stared at him in silence.

The silence stretched out awkwardly before Hoist said, "If I have to hit you with your own wrench I will." He pointed back to the med bay. Ratchet folded his arms and glared at him. Hoist continued pointing until Ratchet threw his hands up with an inarticulate sound of anger and stalked back to the med bay.

Inside, First Aid sat on a berth swinging his legs back and forth while he and Wheeljack talked about molecular bonding. As soon as he saw Ratchet he slid off the berth and back to the wall with his head down. "The last patch appointment is running late, he messaged and said he'd be here in a few breems," he said softly. Wheeljack continued to thoroughly ignore Ratchet.

Making a frustrated sound and rubbing between his optic ridges he kept his anger in a chokehold. "Fine," he ground out. "As Hoist pointed out, I can't shoot Prowl so I might as well make the best of a bad situation." Wheeljack finally acknowledged him with an angry stare. Ratchet ignored him. "We'll start with Blaster since you've met him and had a look at his firewalls. How many types of firewalls are there and what are their functions?"

"Um…" The apprentice clasped his hands in front of him and looked at the floor. Ratchet's optic twitched. It was a first vorn question, the absolute basics of medicine. If a medic didn't know firewalls they couldn't function.

"Iacon needs to review their graduation criteria," he muttered. He turned on his heel and left to track down Blaster and possibly try to wring his neck. He could feel Wheeljack glaring at his back and ignored it.

Unfortunately, Blaster was well protected. Slouched against Tracks in the rec room with Trailbreaker within arm's length at a table with Hound, Ratchet didn't have a prayer of even grazing the mech's flashy paint. "Get that order in, _Hatchet_?" Cradling Lockjaw in his arms he said his little loved nickname like a curse and Ratchet reconsidered his approach when Tracks' blue-white optics landed on him. Blank as winter ice and just as sharp, his optics tracked every move Ratchet made. With those doll-like glass optics staring at him he forgot why he'd been so pit-bent on finding Blaster.

With a quick blink the frozen stare was gone, his optics didn't darken but life percolated into them. He tilted his head down and looked up at Ratchet like a kicked sparkling. "I'm still your favorite glitch, right? You're not getting rid of me either, are you?" Hound, very wisely, continued talking to Trailbreaker like he didn't hear the conversation.

"That is not what this is about and you fragging well know it," Ratchet snapped. Lockjaw lifted her head from Blaster's shoulder and glared at him, menace rolling off the small lioness in thick waves. "Why is everyone on this fragging ship so suddenly interested in medics!"

"They're not," Red Alert's quiet voice startled Ratchet. The dark mech could find a shadow on a sun. Despite the sterile overhead lights his glossy armor didn't shine or flash. He was a crimson night sky; darkness punctuated by points of dull light. His violet optics flashed. "They are concerned for the young mech to which you have taken such a violent dislike." He turned his attention to Tracks and tilted his chin up a fraction. No words needed, the handsome blue mech got to his feet and walked past Ratchet without a glance. "I believe you have files to review, Ratchet," Red Alert said when Tracks disappeared out the door. Lockjaw continued to stare at him, her diamond optics silent accusation of a crime he'd swore he would never commit.

"I'm not," Ratchet snapped at her. She didn't waver.

**oOo**

Ratchet sat in his office long after his shift staring at the files on his datpad. He had only made it past two more before he'd lost concentration and found himself thinking about Blaster and the rest of the pack member onboard. He stared at his faint reflection in the two-way mirror looking out into the med bay. He thought he knew the mech staring back at him, but the longer he stared the less certain he became. "I'm not," he said softly. "Look at his frame, it's too light for a battlefield. He probably can't even support the additional armor he needs just to survive the smoke and particulates in the air." And his reflection agreed that was true. "He doesn't even know his firewalls. He's more likely to kill a mech than save one." And that was where his reflection became a stranger.

He could teach him. That's what apprenticing was for. He certainly hadn't known a damn thing when he'd found his mentor. He could teach First Aid everything he needed to know. "I don't want to." The words were so quiet he wasn't certain if he'd actually spoken them out loud. He could train First Aid, but he didn't want to. Because it didn't matter to Ratchet that First Aid could learn. First Aid wasn't what he wanted and that made him replaceable. Disposable.

He flipped off the light so he didn't have to look at the familiar, ugly, stranger anymore.

**oOo**

**A/N: **I was listening to Valleys by Close Your Eyes while writing this chapter if you'd like to know what exactly the mood is for this. Again, rampant OOCness because I'm restructuring character backstories and changing some Cybertronian geography as well. Tyger Pax in this canon is a totally separate planet and not a city-state.

So glad you guys are liking it so far! Thank you for R/R/F/F!


	3. Chapter 3

He wasn't yelling at the apprentice anymore, he took that as a sign of improvement, but if the angry silence he was still getting from Hoist and Wheeljack meant anything it was that not yelling was not an improvement. The apprentice stood in his corner, as he had been for the last septorn every shift he worked. He didn't speak to Ratchet, didn't get in Ratchet's space and if Ratchet tried really hard he could forget for half a joor he was even there.

A shadow glided into the room. Silent and perpetually lethal, Prowl slunk in like a hunting animal. First Aid lifted his head and a tired smile lifted the corners of his mouth but didn't light his dark optics. Prowl, a mech of so few words Ratchet had thought he was mute when they first met, dipped his head in acknowledgment. His crimson optics—smart, predatory—found Ratchet easily where he organized his tools. Normally a job assigned to apprentices so they could become more familiar with the tools of the trade. He didn't think Prowl knew that, but from the way the black winged mech stared at him Ratchet was reconsidering how much he knew about medical training. Ratchet didn't think he would speak. Normally he didn't. So when he did Ratchet almost dropped a welder on his foot in surprise. "First Aid, see if Wheeljack and Hoist need extra assistance. Clearly Ratchet has things well in hand here." The apprentice didn't even look at Ratchet but quietly left the room. Ratchet opened his mouth to yell at Prowl for issuing order in _his_ med bay but Prowl's sharply curved wings rose over his shoulders and flared. "Silence," he ordered. His deep voice resonated in the quiet med bay and Ratchet's mouth hung open in disbelief. "You have two orns to put together a lesson plan for your apprentice."

"You don't get to order me around like one of your street sparks, _Prowl_," he finally snapped a bit breathlessly. "You stuck me with that glitch, if you don't like—"

"I was not talking about First Aid," Prowl said with heavy emphasis on First Aid's name. "First Aid is now Helios' apprentice. He will be here in a septorn to collect him. Your apprentice is Windfall."

Ratchet sputtered. "He-Helios! Helios isn't a medic! His license was revoked before the war even started, he's not qualified to diagnose a virus much less train an apprentice!"

"Given your behavior since First Aid came aboard, Ratchet, I don't think you are qualified to train an apprentice either. At least Helios will be kind." His wings folded closed and he left the med bay as silent as he had entered. Ratchet stood in the empty room wondering why it felt like he'd been kicked in the spark.

**oOo**

Ratchet sat in the officer's lounge sipping his energon. He had over the course of the orn realized the rest of Prowl's words. Windfall had been his fifth or sixth choice. He had no idea how Prowl had managed to get him from the medic that had picked him up but after re-reading Windfall's file he was almost giddy with anticipation. The small smile on his face felt a little awkward after two septorns of scowling but that was why he was in the little used officer's lounge. He needed to rediscover emotions that weren't angry, disappointed, irritated, or guilty. He picked up his datpad and pulled up Windfall's file once more, this time taking care to read every word. Sometimes Iacon instructors liked to couch idiosyncrasies about graduates in their wording. And just like the last six times he'd read the file he found a few weaknesses but nothing a bit more education and training couldn't easily fix. Nothing major came out. He would take a little work, but he would be perfect.

He looked up when he heard footsteps. Wheeljack stood in the doorway. "You've been glaring at me for a septorn will you just get in here and say whatever it is you want to say so we can get over this." He thought Wheeljack would leave but the mech surprised him and instead walked in and sat across the table.

"I've known you a long time Ratchet, but this is the first time I've wanted to slam your head against a wall," the inventor said bluntly.

"Mm, now you know how I feel most orns," Ratchet said without humor

Wheeljack's expression didn't change. "Yeah, you're in a great mood now." Ratchet sighed and rubbed his optics. "Ratchet, you damn well know if you saw any other medic treating their apprentice like you do First Aid they'd already have their license revoked," Wheeljack snapped.

"Well he's not my apprentice anymore so you can drop it." Ratchet glared at him, looking for a spark of surprise in his optics. There was none. So the ship must already know that First Aid was departing. He realized belatedly that First Aid had probably told Bluestreak he was leaving. The young Praxian always walked with First Aid to and from his shifts.

"No, I'm not," Wheeljack said. "You've been treating him like a rust infection and you don't get to forget about that because you found someone to replace him."

Ratchet leaned forward on his elbows and glared at one of his oldest still living friends. "Please, this was just a stop over Wheeljack, it hardly counts, his last mentor is the only one that will be looked at when he goes for his final accreditation exam. It's not the end of the fragging world for him. And it's _Prowl_ who is doing all of this, not me."

Wheeljack's expression finally shifted from angry to something painful. "You really didn't read his file. He's been onboard a septorn, you've had the file almost two, and you really didn't even…did you even download it?" He shook his head and sat back folding his arms across his chest. "If I wasn't here seeing this whole thing unfold I wouldn't believe it if someone told me, because I thought I knew you, Ratch." He looked to the side as if he couldn't stand to see Ratchet's face any longer. "I read his file, Ratchet. Hoist read it too. And you haven't. That's why you don't know you're the fifth medic to pick him up." His face hardened into its angry mask once more. "Four medics and every single one of them is just like you." He glared at Ratchet. "Maybe if you'd read his file you'd know why Prowl, what'd you say, "put you in a bad situation."" _At least Helios will be kind._ Prowl's parting words jabbed him in the spark again.

"The medic that's picking him will do something with him," Ratchet grumbled, not looking at Wheeljack and quickly losing the good humor he'd found.

"I'm sure that's what the other four said before they threw him out like trash and replaced him," Wheeljack shot back. Ratchet flinched back from that.

"It doesn't matter now," Ratchet said staring at the table because he was angry, but he knew if he looked at Wheeljack he'd crumble. "My new apprentice will be here in two orns and First Aid will have a new mentor in a septorn." He finally lifted his head, but Wheeljack was gone.

**oOo**

The _Ark_ crew had unofficially placed Ratchet in social quarantine. No one talked to him, no one sat with him, and unless they were scheduled in the med bay no one came in to see him. As he walked down the hall to the hangar he ruefully remembered the orns he had wished to be so thoroughly ignored. Now, he was wishing Sideswipe would pull a prank just so someone would have to come see him.

Prowl and Red Alert rounded the corner ahead of him. They moved silent and while they both undoubtedly knew Ratchet was behind them didn't greet him. That, he didn't mind. Neither ever paid him any attention, or any of the other officers for that matter, and that was the way they liked it.

Ratchet caught up to Optimus just outside the hangar, he looked a bit haggard, but still greeted Ratchet warmly. He was probably the only mech onboard who didn't know why exactly Ratchet was getting another apprentice. With so many other important things going on though, there was no reason for him to get involved unless asked. Ironhide kept his attention on Prowl and Red Alert standing apart from the group. They ignored him.

Windfall strode out of the hangar with heavy steps. Tall for a juvenile he flashed everyone a smile. He was a whirlwind and a supernova combined. Ratchet had to blink when the sheer force of his presence stopped in front of him. "Medical apprentice Windfall, sir." he said snapping a salute at the Prime. A smile curved Ratchet's mouth.

Optimus returned his salute. "Welcome to my flagship, Windfall." He looked at Ratchet. "This is Ratchet, our head medic and CMO for the entirety of the Autobot army. I'm certain you'll be in good hands."

_At least Helios will be kind._ "Welcome to the _Ark_," Ratchet said to drown out the memory. Prowl and Red Alert didn't introduce themselves, as expected but watched Windfall with unreadable expressions. For mechs that had spent most of their juvenile years hiding behind their battle masks they were remarkably unexpressive. As often as Optimus wore his mask he had to remember to control his face when it was off.

Windfall was not put off by their lack of expression. "Prowl, sir, an honor to meet you," he said with another salute. Prowl's optics flickered but his expression didn't change and he didn't speak.

"Prowl really only speaks when necessary," Optimus said choosing his words carefully and quickly changing the subject. "Ratchet can show you to your quarters and Red Alert will get you logged into the security system." He gave Windfall another smile before he and Ironhide left.

"With me, Windfall, Red Alert will meet us at your quarters," he told the apprentice.

"Is he always in a bad mood or did I do something wrong?" Windfall asked when he thought he was out of hearing distance. Ratchet covered a wince. Prowl's hearing was the most acute of any Cybertronian Ratchet had ever examined and Red Alert's enhanced sensor net was sensitive enough he could decipher sound vibrations.

Ratchet waited until they were around the corner where he had a better chance of not being overheard. "Prowl and Red Alert are quiet, which, after you meet Blaster and Bluestreak, you will be thankful for."

It didn't take long to get to the medical corridor. It was near the hangar so wounded didn't have to travel far. Red Alert and Prowl waited by a door. Prowl's crimson optics watched Windfall without wavering. It was harder to follow the line of Red Alert's sight since his optics were so strange but they had no reason to study Ratchet. Windfall stayed cheerful even though it must have felt like someone was drilling through him. "Hello again! I don't think I've ever been on a ship this big. I hope there's a map somewhere." He laughed. Red Alert held out his hand wordlessly and with only a curious glance at Ratchet, Windfall held his hand out as well. Ratchet glared at Red Alert, daring him to try something while he was standing right there. Though if the red mech wanted to unleash a virus on Windfall, Ratchet didn't really think there was much he could do to save him.

In only a few seconds Red Alert dropped Windfall's hand and brought up the security screen for the lock. He pressed his palm against it and on the screen Windfall's picture popped up. With a few lightning fast keystrokes the lock was set. Windfall watched the whole process with wide optics. "How'd you do that?"

"It's a sensor net imprint," a quiet voice said behind them. Ratchet turned around and found First Aid and Bluestreak leaving First Aid's quarters. "Mechs with sensitive enough nets can pick up on the nuances in individual nets and use those frequencies to code things. It's more effective than CNA security."

"Hn, I'm surprised Red Alert spared that many words to explain that to you," Ratchet said. _At least Helios will be kind._ He shook his shoulders to scatter the thought.

"I didn't." Red Alert said with a bite that made Ratchet flinch.

First Aid offered them a timid smile. Windfall laughed and patted the top of his head. "Hey, maybe you should be a locksmith instead of a medic, but thanks for keeping my seat warm," he laughed. First Aid's face crumpled and he dropped his gaze to the floor. Bluestreak bristled from head to the tips of his wings and pulled First Aid close to him with a protective wing around his shoulders. _At least Helios will be kind._

"Well, you are an absolute delight aren't you," Red Alert said without inflection. "Please take your star pupil to the med bay Ratchet before he charms everyone away from their duties."

"Did I do something wrong?" Windfall asked as Ratchet led him away. "I mean, he's not big enough to be a field medic, he's just a placeholder." Ratchet tried not to wince when more than one passing crew member glared. _At least Helios will be kind._

He took a deep breath and sighed. "It's hard sometimes to explain to those outside of the medical field that some mechs just aren't cut out for it." _At least Helios will be kind._ He took Windfall on a tour on the way to the med bay to drown out Prowl's quiet voice repeating over and over in his head.

**oOo**

The next morning he looked up three times trying to figure out what about his med bay was off. If the twins had taken a berth again he really was going to weld their afts to the nose of the ship. The fourth time he looked up he found the oddity. First Aid sat in his usual corner watching Windfall work through the procedure.

Moisture glittered in his optics as he tracked every movement of Windfall's hands. The mourning look made Ratchet feel like slag, but some mechs simply weren't meant to be medics. "No," he said coming back to the procedure at hand. "Use the twelve clamp for lines that small, if you try to use anything bigger than that you risk pinching other lines as well and making the situation worse." _At least Helios will be kind._ Prowl's words continued to rattle in his head. He was beginning to think Red Alert had infected him with a virus. "First Aid, go see what Wheeljack's doing," he said irritably. _At least Helios will be kind._

**oOo**

**A/N:** Like a fine wine with cheese, this chapter pairs well with the song Happily Ever After by Haley Rose. Poor little Aid, but, next chapter brings in some of my favorite OCs and a few laughs.

As for your question HaHa-chan, I'll try to condense this as best I can. All the stories I've recently published take place pre-Earth contact. When I think about these characters I don't see the G1 or G2 character designs but something more organic like we briefly see in the 2007 movie when the Autobots land before they take their vehicle disguise. I never liked the cop-out of Cybertronians being designed and built by others, so I stayed with the organic design that would have been brought about via evolution. So that is a common thread in character designs in all the stories.

Also, a lot of the stories may carry a familiar tone because I have a Cybertron I designed that I briefly laid out in my bio. I like to stick with that, barring the oddity of Tyger Pax being its own planet in this arc, because it makes it easier for me to keep track of character movement and story pacing if I know where everything is.

The characters' traits are cobbled together from the G1 and G2 continuities and from my own spin on things. I try to stick with those so I don't give myself whiplash moving between stories and so readers don't get it either if they read two stories in a row.

Hope that fixes the static feeling :)

Thank you everyone for R/R/F/F!


	4. Chapter 4

Only a wire taller than a minibot and still often confused for a juvenile, Helios walked into the med bay with an air of serenity. Ratchet's optic twitched. The miserable glitch had been a pain in his aft since the orn they met. "Hi, I'm Windfall," the large juvenile greeted with a winning smile. Helios glanced in the direction of his loud voice and looked him up and down before ignoring him.

His optics found First Aid, quiet and hunched in his corner. Ratchet hadn't been able to fight past guilt to kick him out again. So he sat in his corner every orn watching Windfall learn. "Ah, Love," Helios crooned walking over to him. Gentle hands equipped with powerful scanners caressed First Aid's helm and neck. Windfall gave Ratchet a confused look, unused to not getting any response. The apprentice lifted his head, his ocean blue optics almost black with exhaustion and misery. The two were the same height. When First Aid grew into his adult frame he would probably be a head taller than the small medic.

Silent as the Unmaker, Prowl walked into the med bay and made a low crooning sound in greeting. Ratchet's optic twitched again in surprise instead of irritation. Prowl was a great deal many things, but affectionate was not on that long list. Even more surprising, the twitchy black battle mech bowed his helm so Helios could run a scan on him. Not even when the glitch was hemorrhaging and unconscious had Ratchet ever gotten a decent scan of him and here he just walked right up and let Helios scan. His scowl came back and he folded his arms. "I'm sorry, First Aid," Prowl's low voice was pleasant no matter what mood Ratchet was in and he ground his denta together in irritation. "I had hoped this would work out differently."

"Impossible," Helios waved the soft sentence off. "I was too far out to pick him up any sooner, where would you have put him?" A rare full smile lit his face and Prowl snorted. "Come on, Love," Helios said, brushing his fingers across First Aid's cheek once more. "We'll go over the rules on the way to the ship." His smile became wry. "If anyone says anything about picking up a shipment, pretend you didn't hear it and don't ask questions."

"Where is the rest of your mutinous crew," Ratchet asked coldly. He didn't like Helios to begin with and he sure as frag didn't want a whole crew of street sparks loose on the _Ark._ The high grade the Twins distilled often brought mechs to the med bay the next morning for minor poisoning. The street sparks were liable to kill someone with the slag they made. Prowl's crimson optics bored into Ratchet's head.

Helios' dark gold optics finally landed on Ratchet. The warm color was offset but the steely coldness deeper inside. "My patience is already very short with you, Ratchet. I wouldn't press matters by insulting my crew." If rumors were to be believed, and sometimes they were, Helios had done the unthinkable and found a way to disable or delete the No Harm coding all medics had. The numbers were often disputed, but it was agreed he had killed well over a dozen under the guise of medical procedure gone wrong. It was why Iacon had revoked his license.

Pounding down the hall caught all their attention and a second later Bluestreak shot into the med bay like he was under fire. "You're still here! I didn't know the ship was early and I was stuck on brig duty with Ironhide and you know he wouldn't let me leave even for a breem to say goodbye and I felt awful 'cause I wanted to say goodbye because I like you and I think we had some fun and I'll miss you because Bumblebee's the only one our age but he's out all the time because he's a scout and I hope you'll call when you're in range so we can talk—" First Aid giggled as the rush of words continued.

Hugging the still rambling sniper he said, "Okay." And like a tap being shut off, the words dried up and Bluestreak hugged him back fiercely.

"Can I walk with you?" Bluestreak asked with pleading optics.

Helios shrugged. "Of course. We've a few things to load before we depart so we'll take the scenic route." Bluestreak grabbed First Aid's hand and walked with him out the door, a wing over his shoulder while he chattered. Prowl followed, wings high, and steps silent, he was nothing more than a menacing shadow in the halls.

"Who was that?" Windfall asked. "He didn't look familiar."

"Good," Ratchet said dryly. "His name is Helios. He lost his license." Loud whooping and howling in the hall made him grimace. "Come on, if that rabble finds Ironhide we'll have to help put them back together." He grabbed the tools he'd most likely need and Windfall obediently followed.

There were a handful of mechs and femmes Ratchet was hoping hadn't strayed from the hangar, but there in the middle of the hall were two of them. "Aye yuh!" Thick torso heavily scarred and a disposition to match, Tuff's voice blasted off the walls. "Blaster!"

"Blaster-mech!"Ruff echoed. Just as big and twice as mean. Waving Windfall behind him Ratchet squared his shoulders and stifled the flutter in his spark as they approached the two massive mechs who specialized in dismemberment.

"Ruff, Tuff," Ratchet yelled. Two mechs, three optics, turned to look at him. Ruff curled his lip, the scars on his face around his missing optic folding into a menacing scowl. Tuff's white optics might as well have been the fluorescents above. There was no warmth or recognition or even the red flame of anger, nothing but cold reflection. "Get back to the hangar, you glitching well know you're not allowed—"

"By whose orders, yuh?" Ruff growled.

Tuff lifted his lip revealing his sharp teeth in a nasty smile. "_Prime's_ orders? 'Cause, yuh, we always do what'a high class say." The two were more feral than Blaster, Blaster at least had to pretend to be civilized while he was on the _Ark_. Ruff and Tuff roamed with other survivors from Pax and didn't bother with being anything more than they were; absolutely glitched.

"Ruff, Tuff, ma' mechs, where you hidin' my sister?" Blaster called. Lockjaw and Steeljaw loped past Ratchet and chuffed at the two frontliners. He could feel his presence being brushed aside and ignored. Blaster strolled by without even a glance at him.

He felt Windfall flinch when Ruff barked a laugh. "Ain't no mech seen your glitchy sister, yuh."

"Aye yuh," Tuff said, grabbing Blaster in a headlock and knuckling his head.

Blaster squirmed loose and jumped back. "Scratch this paint, see what happen. See what happen, big aft glitch." The conversation dissolved into street insults and slurs Ratchet had no desire to translate. Blaster danced back and forth like he was ready to spar, Lockjaw and Steeljaw growling and hissing, panels along their backs raised while they swatted Ruff's feet.

A soft purple femme blew past Ratchet and Windfall yelling, "Blaster! Creator fraggin' glitch, where you been?"

"Ju-pi-ter!" Blaster screeched leaving off whatever he'd been saying to Ruff and Tuff and running down the hall full speed. He collided with the femme like a loaded transport and they fell to the ground hollering gibberish from their home cities. Ruff and Tuff cackled, their laughs reverberating off the walls. Ratchet rubbed his optic ridge with an irritated growl. Out of habit he pulled out his wrench and tapped it against his arm.

Windfall crept up next to him and watched them wrestle and curse each other with wide optics. "Should we be doing something?" he whispered.

"No, it's not those glitches I'm worried about," Ratchet said, glaring at Blaster. "Jupiter, where the frag is Freakshow?"

The femme shoved Blaster off and jumped to her feet with liquid grace. "'Sup _Hatchet_, I missed you," she said with a feral smile.

"Get your afts back to your ship," Ratchet snapped. "After that last stunt you pulled you're lucky your ship is permitted to be in the same star system as the _Ark_." Both the same size as Ironhide and more ruthless than Megatron, when Ruff and Tuff stood shoulder to shoulder they blocked the hall and the light. He didn't like bullying the two mechs with all they had gone through, but he'd seen how treating them softly didn't work out and wasn't going to make the same mistake.

"Aye yuh, watch yer' aft, he's gotta wrench," Ruff said with mock fear. Blaster rolled his optics and Jupiter snorted.

"Primus help me, what're we gon' do wit' a wrench?" Tuff asked in the same tone.

"Run, glitches, fraggin' run," Jupiter shrieked and bolted down the hall. Blaster took off after her cackling and flipping street signs. Tuff cackled and took off down the hall opposite of them, away from the hangar. A second later, Ruff followed with a ringing curse that made Ratchet's optic twitch. "Don't talk 'bout your creator like that," Blaster shouted back.

Ratchet growled and threw the wrench. It bounced harmlessly off Ruff's shoulder and slid across the floor. "What's going on?" Windfall asked.

"Fragging anarchy until that ship packs up and leaves," Ratchet snarled. He retrieved his wrench and strode toward the hangar where Prowl, Red Alert, and most likely Freakshow and Corona were causing more trouble. It was the direction Blaster and Jupiter had headed in.

Windfall stayed close to him like a second coat of paint on their way to the hangar. Ratchet ignored the rest of the rabble running through the halls. Until Freakshow, or better yet, Prowl and Red Alert, called them back to the hangar they weren't going to listen to anyone else.

Storming into the quiet hangar he found Freakshow and Corona talking to Red Alert and Prowl near the small B Class Destroyer, _Prowler._ Retrofitted for Cybertronians, there weren't any identifying marks to give away what species originally manufactured it. Sleek lines made it ideal for atmospheric travel as well as quick exits out of atmosphere. Weapon mountings bristled on it like talons. And every piece of it, right down to the rivets, was dangerous glossy black, just like its namesake. Even powered down in the hangar it looked ready to take on an armada.

Tracks hid himself under Corona's remaining wing next to Freakshow. Scarred by the plasfire that had destroyed her left wing, Corona he treated with more care than Ruff and Tuff. Grounded seekers were unpredictable under the best circumstances. As a survivor from the worst battle in Cybertronian history, Corona's temper hit harder and faster than an asteroid.

"Calm yourself, Ratchet, they won't cause lasting damage," Red Alert intoned. Corona's crimson optics flickered to white and he stopped still a good distance from the group. Even grounded with one wing Corona was faster than him.

"Did you not agree the last time they 'didn't cause lasting damage' that they would remain in the hangar during all future visits?" Ratchet snapped.

Freakshow rolled his head over to look at him. Street smart and the last of the Rising Sun pack, he had been a prince of the streets, like Blaster, until his home had been destroyed while he was serving his sentence on Tyger Pax. "Nah, Ratchet, I think that's what you wanted us to agree to," he said with a lip lifted in a snarl. Tracks opened one pale blue optic and closed it again, tucking himself closer to Corona in the chilly hangar.

Prowl's wings spread quickly and slowly folded again. "They will be leaving soon," he said with a razorblade of irritation in his voice. "Do you not have lesson plans scheduled for mid-orn?"

"It'll be hard to get to those if I have to put mechs back together that your street sparks have dismantled," Ratchet snapped back.

Prowl turned to look at him, dark red optics unreadable. "I would think," he said so softly it didn't look like his mouth moved, "that would make a very interesting lesson." He turned back to the group and their conversation resumed spoken in pack code only they understood.

**oOo**

Helios led his new apprentice through the maze of the _Prowler_. "Not as cushy as the _Ark_, but we had to pick it up on short notice," he said. He climbed a ladder and came up in the small dispensary that also doubled as their rec room. "Everyone's off ship right now causing havoc so if you want to know where something in particular is ask now. Once they're back you won't be able to hear yourself think." First Aid nodded but stayed quiet. Helios paused and put his arm around First Aid's waist. "I know things have been rough, Love, but you're here now and here is where you'll stay." First Aid looked at him out the corner of his optic but didn't answer. "Here, let's get to the bay. If Ruff and Tuff run into Ironhide he might scratch what's left of their paint and I'm certain Swift will have a few dings and dents, Jupiter, too."

The med bay was only a fraction the size of the _Ark's_. Two exam tables were crowded on the left side of the room and the right had a surgical table with some basic life support machines, but nothing like the _Ark_ had. "What do you do with criticals?" First Aid whispered.

Helios walked by the table and drummed his fingers on it. "Hold them together until we can either rendezvous with a larger ship or land at a colony." Life finally percolated into First Aid's optics. They brightened to their sparkling blue as he looked around.

"But…how?"

Helios chuckled and hopped up on one of the exam tables, swinging his feet. "Welcome to the fast lane, Love. The big ships are luxury liners when it comes to medicine. They've got the new tech and a couple other medics on hand to help. Here, you've gotta know what you're doing while you're doing it and you've gotta do it fast." First Aid looked at the floor and then around the small med bay once more, his optics darkening a shade. "And," Helios continued, "I've known Red Alert since he was a sparkling, Prowl since he crawled out of whatever abyss spawned him, and I know they wouldn't put you with me if they thought you couldn't hack it." First Aid lifted his head again.

Helios patted the spot next to him and after a moment First Aid joined him on the exam table. "These mechs are their pack, their family, and they're not going to trust just any glitch from the academy with them."

First Aid stared at his hands in his lap. "Do you think I can do this?" he asked softly.

"Can you do it? You're an apprentice First Aid, you don't know how to do anything yet. You need to ask yourself do you think you can _learn_ to do this?" Helios countered.

He looked at his new mentor, his sixth mentor. His mentor looked at him, not through him, but at him, waiting for his answer without irritation. He nodded and a smile lifted the corner of Helios' mouth. "And that, Love, is all you ever need to know." Helios slid off the table. "Come along, Love. There's no time like the present to start learning. Let's start with firewalls. Close quarters is an understatement on this ship so you'll be with me down the corridor." First Aid followed him out the door with brighter optics. "Does Iacon still make you memorize the types and tiers of firewalls?" Helios asked as they walked.

"Yes," First Aid said softly. Helios snorted and First Aid tilted his head. "Is that…not right?" he asked. He didn't want to push Helios' patience. He'd been nice so far, but whatever arrangements Prowl had made it was clear Helios hadn't been expecting an apprentice.

Helios hummed as he keyed open a door not far from the small med bay. "It's not _wrong_, but you'll find the only reason Iacon came up with that system is so medics can communicate. You'll come up with your own way of reading firewalls and that'll be different from mine and everyone else's. Depends a lot on your patients as well." First Aid ducked into the small room and set his pack down on the empty berth. Helios' was strewn with data chips. "The mechs on this ship are a fraggin' lot sturdier than anyone they let you tinker with at Iacon, they'll fall somewhere about a level two, tier one." First Aid lifted his head in surprise. That was on par with a novice virologist. Helios nodded sagely. "That's your baseline around here. You'll learn." He glanced at the door. "I'll let you get comfortable. I want to see Prowl and Red Alert before we leave, I'll be back in a few breems." First Aid nodded and opened his worn pack.

The room was only half the size of the one he'd had on the _Ark_ but he didn't have much. Pulling out a tarnished silver frame he laid it next to his pillow. The only thing he had from his creators, a broken tungsten chain, was inside the frame. He put his ratty polishing cloth and old polish in the empty top drawer of the only dresser in the room. He put his two data chips on the shelf above his berth, one was the complete collection of rare and unusual glitches, the other a compilation of his favorite stories. Next to them he put the small blue banded rock Bluestreak had given him as a going away present. First Aid had picked it out as his favorite when they were looking at his collection of rocks. Bluestreak told him he picked a pretty one from every planet he went to. Stowing his pack under the berth he heard voices carrying through the ship.

Poking his head into the hallway he looked up and down for the source of the voices. Two big mechs clambered up the narrow ladder leading to the med bay. "Aye yuh, that ol' glitch can move can't he?" The one mech with glittering white optics laughed.

"Mute yer glitch, yuh." The other mech was missing an optic and had a gravellier voice. "Aye, Helios?"

"Aye yuh, Helios, Ruff got his aft whipped by an ol' mech," the white optic mech cackled. The other mech tackled him with a growl that might have been a curse. Stepping out of the room and into the hallway he hesitated a moment watching them toss each other in the narrow corridor. They were a great deal bigger than him, they were almost as big as the Prime. The one-optic mech got the other in a grapple hold and tossed him down the hall. First Aid yelped and flinched back. Both mechs stopped cursing at each other and looked at him. "Aye yuh, who're you?" the white optic mech asked from the floor.

"Hello," he said softly. "I'm First Aid." He looked at the floor self-consciously. "I'm Helios'…apprentice. Can—Can I help you?" He lifted his head and found both large mechs in front of him. It was a little intimidating. Up close their deep scars were worse than anything he'd seen on the _Ark_.

"Aye, you're adorable, Jupiter's gonna glitch three ways," the one-optic mech said. "I'm Ruff, he's Tuff."

Tuff laughed. "Well, yuh, lil' mech, let's see what you can do, aye?"

First Aid followed them down the hall anxiety making his tanks slosh. A-Are you in pain, significant pain?" he asked. It was a massive breach in protocol for him to treat a patient without a senior medic observing. He shouldn't even be treating mechs yet, his purpose was to shadow and learn the nuance of technique.

"Only thing hurtin' on him's pride, yuh," Tuff said.

"Aye, lil' Aid, you don't have to look like yer goin' to surgery," Ruff laughed with his coarse voice. "Just a few dents this glitch can't stop laughin' at long enough to pop out." He punched Tuff's shoulder making him stumble a step. They walked into the med bay and in the brighter light First Aid's tanks went from sloshing to churning. If there were fresh dents on the mechs he couldn't tell where they were. They looked like they had gotten run over by a transport or three. Ruff had a few faded spots of dark green in places, but mostly his armor was scraped down to its base dull silver color. Tuff had a streak of scuffed red down his back but other than that his too was its base silver.

He looked around the room with a new wave of anxiety. He had no idea where Helios kept his tools. There were over a dozen cabinets for him to go through. Tuff gave his head a rough pat. "Breathe, lil' mech, jus' breathe. Ah promise, you won't put a scratch on him, that anymech'll notice," he laughed at his joke and opened a cabinet behind Ruff where an old springer was mixed in with a few other odds and ends. "Aye, now, which dent was it?" he asked tapping the half dozen others littering Ruff's shoulder. "Makes good practice, yuh," he said to First Aid. Ruff didn't seem at all nervous about having an apprentice medic working on his frame. "Aye lil' mech, those glitches at Iacon ever let yuh use a springer?" Tuff asked, he attached the cup to a large dent on Ruff's back.

"Well, yes, but you're not supposed to use them on places like that, because you could interrupt relays—" He yelped when Tuff popped the dent out with an audio ringing sound.

"_Ow!_ Yuh half-glitched, overcharged, sire fraggin'—"

"Aye, watch yer gutter trash mouth 'round the lil' mech," Tuff said, smacking him in the same place he'd just popped out the dent. This was an unprecedented disaster. Helios was going to take him right back out to the hangar and tell Prowl what a mistake he was. He was going to lose everything. Maybe everyone was right; maybe he was just a placeholder until the real apprentices graduated. Unexpected fluid blurred his optics while the two big mechs continued to yell at each other. Helios had left him alone less than ten breems and this was the mess he was coming back to. He would be furious.

"Ruff, Tuff," Helios' quiet voice cut through the two mechs' raucous voices like a knife. "Are you frightening my apprentice?" The two big mechs stopped mid-argument and looked back at him. He tried to blink the fluid back but there was no hope left. There was nothing left for him. He'd been given more chances than anymech had business having and he'd thrown them all away. They were right, everyone from his instructors at the academy to the younglings in the orphan house. He wasn't a medic. He was just a placeholder.

"Aye, lil' Aid," Tuff said with a surprising amount of concern. "I promise he's not hurt none, he's got a hide tough 'nough a plastorch'll hardly scratch it." The big mech pulled him into a hug that was as unexpected as it was gentle. First Aid clicked in surprise and for a few seconds didn't know what to do. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a hug. But the big mech wasn't hurting him and since his world and his dream of being a medic had been not only destroyed but set fire to and thrown into an abyss, the small comfort felt good. He sniffled and Tuff made a rough crooning sound that made him feel a little better.

"Come, Love," Helios said softly. First Aid cowered back against Tuff until the mech lifted his arm and he had nowhere to hide. Head low and shoulders hunched he walked in the direction of Helios' voice. The floor blurred under his feet. He flinched when Helios said to Ruff and Tuff, "Get yourselves fixed and stay that way for a breem and Jupiter won't have to hear about this." The two rowdy mechs were quiet and First Aid sniffled again. Helios put an arm around his waist and he trembled. "Aye, now, Love, you've not done anything wrong," he said softly. "Ruff and Tuff are…rough and tough. They're a lot to take in for anyone. Had I known they had come back I would've told them to keep to the rec room until I was back."

First Aid didn't say anything as they walked down the hall, mostly because he was certain if he opened his mouth he would start wailing like a sparkling. Helios' thumb stroked his side while they walked and the medic was quiet. They walked into the room and First Aid spotted the strap of his shabby pack. This was the fastest unpack-repack cycle he'd ever gone through. Less than a joor.

But Helios didn't tell him to get his things together, didn't even walk over to his berth. Brushing aside the datchips on his bunk, Helios had him sit. First Aid ducked his head lower against his chest and bit his lip when a fresh wave of pain rolled through him. Helios' gentle hands stroked the back of his neck. "It's all right, Love," Helios said softly. "I told you, here you are and here you'll stay." First Aid's head wobbled a little, his averted breakdown and the soothing strokes along the back of his neck made him ready for recharge. He hadn't had a decent recharge since…he'd lost his second mentor. Helios' kept speaking to him softly but he couldn't focus well enough to pick out individual words. The cadence of his voice rose and fell like waves and First Aid's optics slipped shut.

**oOo**

First Aid snuggled more under his covers with a soft sigh. Drifting in the odd no-mech land between dreams and waking he was dimly aware that he didn't know where exactly he was and that if he had to move for any reason he was going to be very unhappy. A soft voice lulled him closer to dreams but movement from his pillow dragged him back to imminent wakefulness.

Making a soft sound he opened one optic and tried to remember if he was in the Iacon dormitory or on a ship. "It's all right, Love," the soft voice said. He closed his optic and got comfortable again. His recharge slow processor fiddled with the mystery of the voice. He knew it, and knew it belonged to someone important but past that the thoughts fragmented into odd dreams of mechs the size of mountains grappling. Which was odd, usually his dreams were dark without defined characters.

Lifting his head with a startled click he remembered why he dreamed about large mechs fighting. "Easy, Love," Helios murmured. Gentle fingers rubbed his audio and the initial brush with panic subsided into recharge heavy confusion. His little pack was under the berth across from him so he was still on Helios' berth. And he was curled close to the older medic with his head finding a comfortable place on Helios' shoulder. Rubbing an optic he tried to figure out what exactly he was supposed to be doing. "Feeling better, Love?" Helios asked. "You've been dead to the world for a joor."

"I'm sorry," First Aid whispered.

"There's nothing to apologize for, Love. Ruff and Tuff sometimes forget just how rough and tough they are. You'll be a good reminder for them."

In a rush brought on by guilt and lingering fear First Aid blurted out, "I didn't mean to…I didn't know they were going to get into things and I thought they were hurt and I wanted to help."

Helios' dark gold optics looked down at him without irritation or anger or impatience or boredom. "Love, the mechs and femmes on this ship have been to the pit and back twice over. Every one of them has enough field knowledge to qualify for an apprentice medic position. I know neither Ruff nor Tuff thought to explain that before waltzing into the bay like they did, but despite their glitch poor bedside manner they can do minor repairs themselves."

"I'm not…in trouble?" First Aid asked with a tremor of fear in his voice.

"Of course not, Love. You're rollin' with some damn sturdy mechs now. They make Ratchet's crew, with a couple exceptions, look like a bunch of newsparks. I promise we'll get into the details soon, right now just relax. From your file it looks like it's been a rough couple of vorns."

Misery washed over First Aid again when his file was mentioned. The mess of notes and rejections made his spark hurt. "Why bother, you can just drop me off on a colony. I'll figure something else out, I'll be a terrible medic. I'm already a horrible apprentice."

"Well, with a name like First Aid, someone thought you ought to be a medic," Helios said, hugging him a little closer.

"That's not my name," First Aid's voice was soft. "It's just what they called me." It was odd, he could feel Helios' genuine interest in what he said. Usually his soft voice was ignored and the conversation was left unsaid. He lifted his optics and glanced at Helios. The older mech tilted his head, interest bright in his dark gold optics. "That's where…that's just where they found me, see. They found me in Rennin, a little river town in Iacon, and they found me in the…well I guess it was supposed to be a hospital. But, it was so little they just called it a first aid station. I was the only one they found, everyone else was dead from a C-12 outbreak. They found me in an isolation room and I was so little I couldn't talk or anything and I didn't have a nametag or papers or any identification, so they just called me First Aid and…it…stuck. But that's not my name," he said resolutely. "My creators gave me a name, I just…don't remember it." he added in his soft voice.

Helios made a soft humming sound. "Rennin…Calling it a town might be a little generous. I think it was just a fueling stop for the big river barges. Lot of refugees from Kalis went through there when the south got hit with the Megatron's bio-agents." First aid looked up at him a little confused why that mattered. "Ship captains were damn particular about running refugees; they didn't want to get sick either. Every mech and femme that boarded one of those ships was logged with name, age, description, and overall health. That way if the viruses started spreading north they'd have somewhere to start looking." Helios looked down at him. "Have you looked for refugee records from Kalis, Simfur, Gygax, pit, I'd look in Polyhex, too."

First Aid blinked and shook his head slowly. No one had ever mentioned he might be a refugee. He'd always been told he was from Rennin and since no one could find record of his birth it was assumed he was just another nameless street spark.

"If a virus carrier managed to get onboard one of those ships and people started getting sick," Helios said softly, "And I had a newspark with me, I'd have gotten off at the first stop and waited for another ship."

"But if they were already sick, no one would let them onboard," First Aid said with a pang in his spark that he always felt when he thought of his creators.

Helios nodded and hugged him closer. "Doesn't mean they couldn't con the system," he said after a moment. "Any medic worth his programming would have done everything they could to keep you from getting infected. With as fast and easy as those bio-agents spread, it would have been a pit lot easier to keep the healthy in isolation units instead of the sick. They were hoping if they could prove you weren't sick a ship would take you. But once rumors of sickness in Rennin spread no one would've stopped."

"So how'd they find me? I should've starved or frozen to death. I was really little," First Aid told him.

"Clean up," Helios said softly. "Like I said, Rennin was a fueling stop. War or sickness doesn't matter, businesses have to move product and those barges needed fuel. They were probably there to burn the bodies when they found you."

Sorrow anew washed through First Aid. He got up and retrieved his small frame with its broken chain. He curled up with Helios again cradling the frame against his chest. He'd known since he could remember that his creators were dead and not coming back for him, but it still hurt. "Sometimes, we have to make our own families, Love," Helios murmured.

**oOo**

**A/N:** I promise I'm not hoarding chapters or holding characters hostage! I started rewriting and revising some original content and that has taken precedence. But, next chapter we get to really meet this ragtag group of ragamuffins! Thank you for R/R/F/F!


	5. Chapter 5

First Aid walked next to Helios on their way to meet the rest of the crew in the dispensary. Still a little tired, the anxious flutter in his tanks was easy to ignore while he looked more around the ship. He'd have to figure it out eventually and he didn't want to bother everyone asking for directions every time he left his room. The _Ark_ had identifying marks running along the ceiling, blue led to the science corridor, green to the hangar and the medical corridor, red to the firing range and rec room and dispensary. There weren't any marks to the armory or the bridge, but he hadn't had any reason to even find those, Bluestreak's tour though had been thorough. The _Prowler_ didn't have any colors. "How—How do you know where you are?" he asked softly. He didn't see any identifying marks on doorframes or on the floor. There was nothing to indicate even what level they were on or if they were aft, starboard, port, or bow.

Helios looked up at the ceiling and at the passing walls. "Honestly, Love, I have no idea." He continued to look around like he'd never been down the hall before. "We picked this ship up from slavers…about the time the Exodus started. I've been on it really ever since. I guess we just figured it out from wandering around." He passed a door and looked at the ceiling again. "Huh."

"This was a slaver ship?" Frist Aid whispered, no longer as fascinated by the odd little storage compartments they passed. He shivered and moved a little further from the dark grey walls.

Helios nodded while they turned a corner and started for a ladder leading up. "Not the best history, but you'll find unless the ship has a stamp on it from the Autobot shipyard, it's a former slaver. We like to call it recycling."

"But…how…how did you even get it?" First Aid touched the rungs of the ladder like they might burn him, or still be covered in the blood of kidnapped and tortured species. Helios put his hand over his.

"We went looking for them," Helios said softly. "And the slavers got no mercy, but everyone else went home. It doesn't even look like the same ship anymore; we had to do a lot of modifications to the life support and with the engines. It's got a nasty past, but it's done a lot of good to make up for it. All those holds the slavers had make it easy for us to load up on supply aid and get it to colonies hit by Decepticons, disease, and other invaders." First Aid looked at the dark walls again and the ladder under his hand before nodding and climbing the ladder without hesitation.

He came up in another hall but there was noise, a lot of noise. A bout of nerves made him step closer to the dark walls and the shadows they harbored. "It's all right, Love, they're always a bit rowdy after they see some of their pack. They'll settle in an orn or two." Helios took lead and the noise got louder the further down the hall they went. It wasn't angry noise but the loud jovial noise he often heard in holovids. He didn't know that was an actual sound that could be made.

Helios walked into the room without hesitation, First Aid balked when another round of laughter erupted. Ruff and Tuff sat on a table with cubes in their hands, probably contributing the most to the noise. A femme seeker with only one wing was the first to notice him lurking in the doorway. Her red optics flicked over him and then a warm smile softened the hard lines and angles of her face. A heavily scarred dark blue mech sitting on a couch looked over his shoulder. "Whatcha doin' creepin', lil' mech?" he asked with a gravelly voice. First Aid ducked back a little, embarrassed and shy.

Helios returned to him and stood a little in front of him. "This is First Aid, my apprentice. Any of you upset him and I'll rewire your processors," he said without malice. First Aid looked around his shoulder at the room, quieter now after the announcement.

A femme with striking purple and blue colors was the first to get a good look at him. "Oh Helios, he's _adorable!_" she squealed. Before First Aid could straighten out and say hello the femme pounced on him, wrapping him in a tight hug. "Look at his cute lil' face, he's like a big sparkling wit' those optics."

"See, told yuh she'd glitch," Ruff said.

"Aye yuh, we did," Tuff said. The big mechs laughed and noise returned to the room. Jupiter let go of him after he'd been thoroughly squeezed and before he had his breath back, dragged him into the room to meet everyone else. He shot a bewildered look at Helios who only smiled and dropped down on the couch next to the dark blue mech.

Jupiter brought him over to Ruff and Tuff and hopped up on the table next to them. A pretty silver femme jumped up behind her and gave him a sunny smile. "You're right, he's a cutie. I'ma Swift, how'd Prowl find a lil' thing like you?"

"Prowl found yuh," Ruff said with surprise, his single optic flashing. "Aye yuh, must'a been rough, where'd he pick a lil' mech like you up?"

Jupiter waved the question off. "Prowl din't really find him, he just…picked 'em up." The whole conversation left First Aid a little confused but he smiled and tried to find something nice to say. "Is your shoulder better?" he asked Ruff. Tuff cackled and Ruff punched him in the back. Jupiter ducked the hit and popped back up with a toothy grin.

"What happened to your shoulder?" she asked with feral delight. First Aid looked between the two mechs with anxiety. It seemed like good follow up question since he hadn't really been the one to treat him and since Tuff had used the springer in a way he'd been told by professors explicitly not to use.

Ruff gave his head a rough pat, "Aye now, don't be getting' that look again. We give a mech a hard time, don't mean nothin'," he said. Tuff picked him up as easily as he picked up a datpad and set him on the table between him and Jupiter. First Aid had never sat on a table before. The thrill of taboo momentarily set aside his anxiety.

"You two glitches scare the lil' mech?" Swift asked with narrowed optics. Ruff and Tuff looked at each other and then at the two femmes.

"What you mean by "scare"." Ruff asked. Jupiter growled at him and in a second the two big mechs were off the table and out the door with Jupiter on their heels snarling like a cybercat. Their shouts for mercy and heavy footfalls didn't fade until they moved to another deck. First Aid sat on the table with Swift staring at the door bewildered.

"Ah don't worry 'bout them, Jupiter'll just scratch what's left of their paint off," Swift said with a laugh. "C'mon now, let's introduce you to some sane mechs." Swift slid off the table and First Aid followed without much else to do. Swift led him to the couch where the one winged femme and the dark blue mech were sitting with Helios.

Helios looked wistfully out the door. "There goes my blackmail." The blue mech laughed, his voice harsh and grating. A deep scar running along his neck probably explained why he was so gravelly. First Aid was surprised the mech had survived given how thick the scar tissue was.

"Freakshow," the blue mech said with a fanged smile. First Aid gave him a shy smile in returned. "Nice to have someone onboard who can glitch those two afts."

"They don't need to be anymore glitched," The femme said. Her remaining wing was a pretty gradation from dark purple on her arches to scintillating white on the ends of her feathers. She gave First Aid a warm smile. "Corona. Don't let those two afts frighten you, they're nothin' but mush when you get down deep enough." First Aid nodded.

"Come here, Love. I'm certain when Jupiter gets back she'll pounce on you again if you're not properly escorted." Helios moved closer to Freakshow who stretched out and leaned against his shoulder with a long sigh. First Aid curled up on Helios' other side, sheltered now by his warm frame and the arm of the couch. Swift curled up next to Corona speaking in a language First Aid had never heard before. Whatever it was, Corona was fluent in it as well and the two laughed and continued conversing.

Jupiter skipped back into the room a few breems later and shouldered her way into a card game being set up on the table they had all been sitting on. Credits were tossed to the center and the mechs and femmes spread out enough they had elbow room while the deck was cut. At first glance it looked like the rec room in the _Ark_ but there was something different about it. There were mechs off on their own, watching the card game or reading datpads or sipping energon. It was a little noisier, but the room wasn't even half the size of the one on the _Ark_. Mechs and femmes popped in and out of the room, coming and going to their shifts or grabbing friends to go watch holovids in private quarters. And all that was familiar, he'd seen it on the _Ark_ and on the bases and ships he'd been on before that and he'd seen it at the orphanage. But the ghost of something different remained no matter how hard he stared.

"You writin' a book, lil' mech?" Freakshow's gravelly voice asked. First Aid jumped a little and then looked at him in confusion. Freakshow nodded to the room he'd been studying.

"It…feels different," he said so quietly he wasn't certain if Freakshow could hear him. But the mech and Helios both looked at him with raised optic ridges inviting him to explain. "I mean, it's not…different, but it is. It's kind of like the _Ark_ and all the other places I've been, but it's—No one's arguing," he said interrupting himself and sitting up a little more. Helios blinked and Freakshow looked out at the room before pulling out a smoke stick and lighting it up. "Well, they're arguing, but they're not arguing…they're not mad at each other," First Aid said fumbling for the odd difference he'd noticed. "On the _Ark_ Sunstreaker and Cliffjumper used to yell at each other and if it got really loud someone had to separate them. Or Mirage and Blaster sometimes got mad at each other. But no one here is really angry, they're just loud." He settled next to Helios again feeling better than he had in vorns.

"Well course they ain't hatin' each other," Freakshow said between slow drags. "We been to the pit and back and went back again for a visit. They know each other. No reason to get glitchy angry."

"It's nice," First Aid said resting his head on Helios' shoulder. "It's comfortable." Helios reached up and stroked his cheek. The room was still noisy but it was comfortable noise, noise mechs made when they were happy and safe and First Aid closed his optics listening to the noise rise to shouting laughter and ebb back to quiet private whispers and giggles.

**oOo**

Three orns after First Aid's departure Ratchet watched Windfall try to work through the same procedure they'd been on since the small juvenile left. He'd been so preoccupied with First Aid's presence he hadn't realized Windfall wasn't getting through procedures as cleanly as he should. He had opted to take the septorn to review everything they'd been going over.

They were still on lesson one.

Windfall had the primary lines reconnected with neat welds; good. The hypothetical patient's vitals were slowly dropping, if Windfall noticed he didn't give any indication; bad. Very, very bad. He started to move on to wrapping up the procedure without reconnecting or cauterizing the lesser lines all around the injury. The patient's vitals dropped into the red zone and an alarm startled Windfall so much he almost dropped his welder. Ratchet shook his head. "No, you still have open lines. Just because they're small doesn't mean they can't cause hemorrhaging."

Windfall stopped and made a frustrated sound. "This was so much easier in class," he said. Ratchet hit the button on the practice table in the back of the med bay and the hologram disappeared taking the staccato alarm with it.

"You get an entire class session in Iacon to double check your work," Ratchet said. "You don't have that luxury anymore. Re-read the general rules of surgery; it doesn't matter what injury you have, the rules are the same. Stop the bleeding, reattach what you can, cauterize what you can't, and then check everything again. That needs to be rote, not something you even think about, just something you do." Windfall nodded, his confidence taking a heavy blow. Ratchet checked his chronometer. "That's enough for this orn, get something to eat and read up on your basic procedures. We'll go over any questions in the morning." Windfall nodded again and trudged to the door.

Ratchet waited until he was gone before letting out a long sigh. The juvenile knew what he was doing, could talk through all of the procedures they'd done up to this point, but actually doing it in the quick and efficient way it needed to be done to save lives was where he fell apart. Ratchet drummed his fingers on the table trying to think of a new way to present the lesson to get past whatever block Windfall had. He wasn't moving past lesson one until his basics were bedrock. Without that sturdy groundwork he could never be a medic. Forgetting to cauterize or reconnect even one line could end a life that should've been saved. And they hadn't even gotten into post-op infections. He huffed and pushed himself away from the table. He had his orn-to-orn duties to catch up on. Trying to get through the first lesson with Windfall had eaten most of his orn. He'd be up well into the night getting his more mundane things done. It was a blessing he didn't have patients to check on or he'd be orns behind.

The doors slid open as he walked into his office. Wheeljack came in, fins flashing until he spotted Ratchet. He hadn't been down to the med bay as much as he used to. Still angry about First Aid, Ratchet supposed. It wasn't like him to hold a grudge and Ratchet was hoping this appearance was the beginning of the end of his odd distance. "Your star pupil have a rough orn?" Or maybe not.

Ratchet glowered at him. "The field is dramatically different from Iacon's lecture halls. Are you here to gloat about the difficulties of first year apprenticeship or did you need something?" he snapped.

Wheeljack pulled back, fins flashing once in surprise. He was quiet for a moment, a slight frown on his face and then he winced. "Sorry, Ratchet. I wasn't trying to be…mean. I just haven't seen Windfall look that lackluster." Ratchet stopped bristling and sighed. He couldn't remember a time Wheeljack had been intentionally mean. Sometimes his mouth worked faster than his processor.

"It's been a rough orn for both of us," Ratchet conceded. "But you're not on fire or in pieces, what did you need." Wheeljack shrugged and hopped up on a berth. Any other mechs that were in the med bay as much as Wheeljack avoided the place like a smelter. He was the only one who liked to sit with Ratchet, although, they'd been friends since Ratchet had done his studies at the academy. Wheeljack knew him better than anyone still living.

"What's wrong, Ratchet. You haven't threatened to reassemble the twins or thrown a wrench at Blaster in orns. It's got everyone twitchy." Ratchet gave him a long look until Wheeljack threw up his hands. "Fine, but as soon as everyone notices I'll bet they'll be twitchy."

Ratchet left his work for a later joor and joined Wheeljack on the berth. "I haven't had an apprentice in…Primus, I don't even know how long. It's taking a while to get back into things." Trying to distill millennia of knowledge into easily digestible pieces was more exhausting than marathon surgeries. "It's hard when we're both learning. I should've kept on with apprenticing, but we were so far out it seemed frivolous to turn all the way back just for an apprentice." He rubbed his optics. Maybe Windfall was doing everything right as Ratchet had explained it. Maybe he'd missed some crucial step and he just hadn't realized it because it was so ingrained he didn't know he was doing it.

Wheeljack's fins flashed dimly while he thought. "Have you thought about running the lesson plans past Hoist or Grapple before going through them with Windfall? They know enough if it doesn't make sense or you miss something they'll know." Some of Ratchet's weariness lifted.

"No, I hadn't thought of doing that." Although neither Hoist nor Grapple had shown much interest in Windfall, he didn't think they'd outright turn down a request to help him. "I'll ask Grapple tomorrow, he's in early." A loaded transport worth of weight lifted from him. He could streamline his lesson with the two experienced secondary medics. They were young enough they could still remember their lessons and help him work out his own lesson plans.

"You're always trying to do these things by yourself, Ratchet," Wheeljack said with mild chastisement. "You've got help all around you. Trailbreaker's nice enough he could probably help you with the 101 things, he learned from Prowl and Red Alert."

"Thanks, 'Jack," Ratchet said feeling better than he had in orns.

Wheeljack jumped off the berth. "Indeed, now come on, let's get something to eat and see what Perceptor's been up to. He's been locked away in that lab for two orns and I heard him leave just as I was wrapping up." His optics shone with unfiltered curiosity. The two of them were constantly trying to outdo each other when it came to theoretical equations. Ratchet enjoyed science, but not at the depth Perceptor and Wheeljack were at. He could go breems without hearing a familiar word when the two of them really started working on something.

"I have work to catch up on and get to Prowl," he said by way of flimsy excuse. He wouldn't mind some warm energon and a legal glitch trip listening to the two scientists.

Wheeljack rolled his optics. "Oh c'mon, Ratch. It's too late and you know it. If you send it now you'll just irritate him. Might as well call it a loss and send everything tomorrow." The engineer didn't give him a chance to argue and grabbed his hand, pulling him from the med bay like he had when they were at university.

**oOo**

"Good, now double check everything," Helios said watching First Aid. "Firewalls still stable?" First Aid checked his HUD where he was getting constant information from Tuff's firewalls and vitals. He nodded. "Vitals good?" First Aid nodded again. It seemed a little overzealous to be checking firewalls and vitals when Tuff was in just for a couple dents someone, probably Jupiter according to Helios, had given him. But Tuff was patient and didn't complain. "Good, now give him an energon pop and kick him out." Tuff brightened and First Aid giggled.

"Aye yuh, I get an energon pop? Usually I just get a kick in the aft," he hopped off the berth and landed with a thud.

"You still get that, free of charge," Helios said.

"Thank you," First Aid said. He couldn't imagine how relay racking it had to be to have him messing with firewalls and everything else. But Tuff hadn't complained or questioned it when his quick fix turned into a long lesson.

Tuff gave his head a rough pat. "Any time lil' mech, yuh."

"Aye yuh, get that hide all buffed out fer Jupiter to scratch up again?" Ruff hollered from down the hall. Tuff's head swung around and the big mech stalked toward the voice with a few growly curses that made First Aid giggle and his face heat.

"Very good," Helios said. He hopped up on the berth and First Aid joined him feeling an unfamiliar flush of confidence. "It seems like a little much to be going over firewalls and vitals and whatnot, but it's a good habit to get into especially if you're working with frontliners. A lot of them don't want to say anything when they're not feeling their biggest and baddest or if something hurts. So no matter if it's a scratch or a couple dents always, always, get into the firewalls and vitals and give them a once over. And it'll get you familiar with your patients faster so you'll know when something isn't right."

First Aid nodded. "Why are Tuff's firewalls so strong?" he asked. Unless he'd been deliberately exposed to some very nasty viruses First Aid couldn't think of any reason why his firewalls would be on par with a virologist. Not even Hound or Trailbreaker's firewalls were that strong and they were off ship every chance they got rolling around in alien mud with alien bacteria and everything else.

Helios made a humming sound and looked around the room. "Everyone onboard was at Pax," he said at last. "And even small injuries on Pax could turn into systemic infection overnight." First Aid had only heard about the battle of Tyger Pax in history classes and even then it had been only a brief mention. The worst battle of the war to date. Autobots had lost more than half of their ground forces and Decepticon fatalities were still unknown but, his teachers at least, said they were worse. Helios shook himself a little. "Which, speaking of infections, let's get into common post-op issues." He pulled out his datpad and First Aid scooted closer to him to listen and look.

That evening in the rec room he sat with Ruff, Tuff, Jupiter, and Swift sipping his energon half watching the holovid Freakshow and Corona had on and half listening to the conversation around him. He'd figured out they weren't speaking a totally new language, just using abbreviated phrases and words in unusual context. He still had no idea what they were saying and it presented a fun puzzle for him to work on.

"Hey Aid, you wanna hear a funny story," Jupiter asked with a laugh. First Aid perked up and nodded. He'd heard a lot over stories over the septorns, some of them so funny he thought he'd overheat and some so scary he was glad he was sharing a room with Helios. Ruff, Tuff, and Swift sat back with smiles on their faces. "So one time, way back; me, Blaster, Prowl an' Red, Freakshow, an' a couple others were on this base off world. An', by Primus, this place was so fraggin' boring we used to poke the wildlife just to see what it'd do." Ruff and Tuff laughed and First Aid felt that was a whole other story waiting to be told. Jupiter waved them off with a grin. "But this base had everythin', like, there was no one there, but it still had artillery an' everything just sittin' around rustin'. So one orn, Blaster looks at me an' says, "hey'a glitch, let's play tic tac toe." An' I thought he'd finally cracked, but he grabs me and we run out where the artillery sittin' an' says "I'm X, you're O." An' fires this damn thing straight into the trees."

Ruff and Tuff almost fell out of their chairs laughing even though they must have heard the story before. First Aid stared wide opticked with his mouth open not believing a word and knowing Jupiter didn't have to make up such outrageous stories. What he'd gleaned from the stories was that none of them had to make up or embellish stories; the lives everyone onboard was the stuff of holovids.

"An' I swear to you, we spent all fraggin' orn shooting at each other with heavy artillery shells until we ran out." She crossed her arms on her chest, optics shining. "Ah, that was such a great orn. I'd do it again in a spark pulse."

"Aye yuh, now we got ships," Ruff said with a feral grin. "Now we can'a play tag." Tuff snorted and Jupiter cackled but First Aid was pretty sure if the war ended tomorrow, the _Prowler_ would be involved in the most dangerous game of tag every conceived.

First Aid looked around the room again, soaking in the sounds. Some were bickering over the rules of a card game and Corona and another femme were going back and forth on whether or not the lead in the holovid was cute enough, but through it all was a thread of laughter that never seemed to end. It flowed through the room like a wave, moving from one group to another, quieting to chuckles but never fully stopping.

**oOo**

Windfall sat by himself in the rec room, not even talkative socialite Bluestreak paying him any attention. He kept his head down and his optics on his datpad reading up on yet more basic procedures. Ratchet couldn't stay and help him, he had an orn's of work to catch up on, again. But he cast one last glance at his apprentice, quiet and alone in the whirl of noise, and went to hunt down the one mech who would know why.

"Blaster," he said walking into the bridge where the symbiot was reclined with his feet on the console. Ironhide would glitch if he saw him, but Blaster was pulling a late shift and Ironhide wasn't coming anywhere near the bridge until his shift in the morning.

"Ratchet," Blaster said mimicking Ratchet's tone and inflection. At least he hadn't answered with a recording of his voice, that was creepy in ways Ratchet couldn't quite put his finger on. Steeljaw sprawled out on the floor opened one optic to glare at Ratchet before getting up and purposefully stretching and curling into a ball with his back to him.

"I'm worried about Windfall," Ratchet said, no reason to mince his words. Blaster would get the truth out of him eventually and he still had work to do. Blaster rolled his head to look at him with a not-my-job expression. "Do you know why not even Bluestreak is talking to him?" Bluestreak talked to insects and wild animals when he was off ship, Ratchet couldn't believe he hadn't pounced on Windfall to retell all the stories everyone else was sick of hearing.

Blaster snorted. "Too much," he said as if that fully explained everything. Ratchet glared at him. Blaster well knew he didn't know what his street talk meant. Blaster gave a long suffering sigh, like he was trying to explain physics to a sparkling. "Your mechling puts too much out," he said. "Doesn't matter who sits with him, he gets all puffed up and important. Not'a mech on here who cares for that," he said with a lip curl. "You think these mechs wanna know how important that juvenile thinks he is? When's the last time he was under live fire? Pit, not even Bluestreak wants to sit for that and Bluestreak's _nice_." He flipped his hand and like that Ratchet was dismissed.

He was still bristling about the dismissal when he reached the med bay. He had to find some way to integrate Windfall into the crew. If they were ignoring him Ratchet was going to have a pit of a time getting anyone to sit for him while Windfall practiced his scans on a living breathing mech.

If he ever made it that far.

Ratchet looked at the lesson plan for the next orn laid out on his desk. Hoist and Grapple had both looked over it with more interest than he'd seen out of either of them in almost a kel and had agreed it was watertight. But Windfall was still having issues implementing book knowledge to real world situations. His progress had gone from slow to nonexistent. And Ratchet was out of ways to help. This was the basics; the building blocks of every medic no matter their focus or practice. The mech needed to figure out what he was doing or Ratchet was going to have to send Iacon a message and start looking for a new apprentice.

**oOo**

First Aid dropped down the ladder and looked around the quiet hall with bright optics. Giggling, he bolted. He had to get up three decks and two halls over, but he still hadn't been caught. If he made it all the way to the med bay in time for his lesson with Helios he would win. He didn't even think they were letting him win this time.

It'd taken a little less than two kels for him to figure out the maze of unmarked halls and decks well enough to just get from the med bay to the rec room. But now he was finally becoming familiar enough with them he could play hide n' seek with the others and not be the first out. He crept up to a branch in the hall and peeked in both directions. Still clear. The ladder at the end of the hall was the tricky part, anyone could be waiting for him absolutely still and motionless and he wouldn't know it until they scared the pit, Primus, and the life out of him when he was tagged.

Climbing the ladder a rung at a time he kept his footfalls quiet, not hard for him since he had such a light frame and armor. The other mechs were big and heavy, he could skip down the halls with hardly a sound. In the three kels he'd been onboard he'd scared Ruff and Tuff no less than four times and even startled Freakshow with his quiet steps. The entire crew had accused Helios in apprenticing him in the dark art of creeping, but his mentor denied all claims.

He popped his head out of the hatch and looked both ways. He saw a mech on his way to his shift, but he wasn't playing. Hopping out he took off at a sprint down the hall. He was guessing the others figured out he'd slipped past them at the rec room and they'd be on their way to the med bay to catch him there. Jupiter was the best at those kinds of ambush attacks. She was probably there already hiding around a corner.

He came up another ladder and surveyed the final stretch, the gauntlet. At the end of the hall was the med bay and somewhere between him and safety was a bright purple and blue femme who liked cuddles and long walks around the ship. He came all the way up and went in the opposite direction to another ladder. He could go up two decks and over a hall and come down at the other end of the hallway and jump almost from the ladder into the med bay. He would be cutting his time close, but he was sure to be tagged if he took the direct route.

Keeping his breaths slow and quiet he eased down the ladder. Jupiter had super hearing, she could hear someone sneeze two decks up and four halls over. If his spark so much as pulsed to loud she'd know exactly where he was. Creeping down he still didn't see her hiding in an obvious spot at the branch of the hall only a few meters away. She had to be further back so she didn't risk throwing a shadow or making an inadvertent noise. Well, it wasn't going to help her this time. With a triumphant grin he readied his jump. As soon as he hit the floor he had to be in the med bay because the femme was faster than a predacon.

Launching himself, he heard the small noise of his feet leaving the rungs and there she was; coming from around the corner with a loud battle cry. He squealed like a sparkling but the med bay was right in front of him, she didn't have a chance of catching him. She jumped. He ducked. And rolled past the threshold laughing uncontrollably. Jupiter slid across the floor with a curse sharp enough to peel paint.

"Did you finally win it, Love," Helios asked with a smile as he went through his supplies. First Aid rolled to his feet still giggling and nodded. Helios put an arm around him and gave him a quick hug. "If you wanted to win, you shouldn't have taught him so well," He told Jupiter. She stuck her tongue out at him and stalked away. Flushed with triumph First Aid followed Helios through the med bay helping him count supplies while telling him about his complicated strategy.

**oOo**

**A/N:** Well, looks like First Aid has made lots of new friends!

As for questions regarding the other Protectobots: It's a lot of characters to juggle and all of them with really distinct personalities. And since I've already got a lot of original characters and traditional characters OOC I've opted to stay away from further confusing everything with the addition of four others. Sorry if anyone was hoping to see them, but it's for the sake of my sanity and streamlined reading there won't be any gestalts in this arc.

Thank you for R/R/F/F!


	6. Chapter 6

First Aid gasped, the ceiling lights above flickered as the ship rumbled and the deck jumped below him. Swift lay offline next to him, shrapnel lodged in her thick armor and exoform. It had torn through him like wet paper. He coughed, gasping again as energon flooded his intakes from the wounds. But Swift was hurt, too. She'd been offline over a breem. The shockwave from the blast had done more damage to her than him. She'd been in front of him, using her thicker armor to shield him, as a Decepticon round breached _Prowler_'s shields. Helios needed him in the med bay. He needed to get up. There were injured mechs and femme who needed help.

The ship banked hard and another series of concussive blasts rocked the deck. _Prowler_'s firepower was equal to that of the larger Decepticon ship they'd ferreted out. But that didn't make the fight easy. He'd been on his way to the med bay when a Decepticon shell breached the hull. Swift had dragged him out just as proximity warnings started screaming. The direct blast hadn't hit them, but the superheated pieces of sheared metal and debris had done their worst.

He rolled to his side and almost offlined himself. Agony rolled through his frame, he couldn't breathe. No matter how much he coughed or gasped he couldn't get his intakes to work. Knifing pain tore through him with each attempted intake. Energon sat on his tongue hot and nauseating. But Swift still wasn't moving. He had to get to her, had to wake her up. The few meters separating them might well have been a star system. He kicked himself forward, gasping again, coughing more energon up. The hall seesawed and his optics went out of focus. The rumble and jump of the deck was hardly felt through his numb hands. He couldn't breathe. He made himself crawl forward again.

Swift's frame was warmer than the cool deck and he marshaled every ounce of focus he still had to access her firewalls. He was only an apprentice and couldn't get past more than just a scan without a medic's code, but he could see her vitals. They weren't redlining, but low, like she was in recharge. He put his head down, his own frame beginning to warn him of imminent overheating. His gasping breaths only made the heat worse. The shockwave from the blast must have knocked her into stasis or emergency reboot that was interrupted. He didn't have half the knowledge or access to her frame he needed to pull her out of it. She needed a manual reboot at the very least or…a good shock. Swift's systems were always on a hair trigger, ready to fight or flee at any given second in a day, even while she was in recharge she was on edge. It's what made her so jittery. Every sound was possible danger. If he could find a way to shock her system enough, she'd reboot out of straight fear.

Digging into her firewalls he hit them as hard as he could with his own. His systems began shutting down. It felt like he was burning from the inside out. His limited breath hitched and he coughed bringing up more energon and a horrible spike of pain. He hit Swift's firewalls again and saw a blip in her vitals before they jumped up to where they should be. He withdrew. It wasn't suave or pretty, but she would reboot and wake up. He couldn't breathe.

**oOo**

"Helios," Swift staggered in, holding an unresponsive First Aid. "Shrapnel, intakes," she said. She didn't sound quite lucid, but she was upright and talking and at the moment that was good enough. Helios kept his hands steady when he took the juvenile from her. First Aid's chest was a mess of energon and torn metal. His little apprentice didn't move, his spark barely flickering.

Laying him out he shut out the other distractions in the room. The others could take care of themselves or keep anyone from bleeding to death until he had First Aid stable. Memories of Pax crowded in, like they always did when there was too much chaos and too few medics, too few supplies, and too much energon. Blinking he kept his mind and optics focused on First Aid's torn chest. It was easy to get caught trying to remove every piece of shrapnel, but the hard learned lesson was to remove the larger pieces and stop the bleeding. He'd lost a dozen on Pax before he'd figured that out. He wasn't going to lose another one.

The noise around him blurred and shifted between past and present. He could hear Freakshow's gravelly voice and it took him back to the field hospital on Pax as wounded were brought in by the dozens. But then he didn't hear Prowl's smooth answer or Blaster's raspy reply and he was brought back to the present onboard the _Prowler_. There wasn't the stench of spilled internals or drying energon, there were no screams of pain. But the floor rumbled with weapons discharge and hits taken and the past swallowed him up again. The carpet bombings the Decepitcons had dropped over the field hospital and base had killed so many. They'd lost so many medics, apprentices, out on the lines triaging. They'd died with the ones they were trying so hard to save and then it had just been the few of them. Mechs bleeding out before anyone could be spared to triage.

The ship was quiet. "He can't stay here," he said to the silence, not knowing if he was talking to Freakshow or the ghosts of medics lost on Pax. He blinked and he was back on the ship, wholly in the present. First Aid wheezed still offline and that was for the best. His recovery would be long and painful the longer he slept the shorter that period would be.

"I'll call Prowl," Freakshow said. The ship stayed quiet. The ghosts stayed close, gathering on his peripherals. Faces he'd never had names for who had died in the hot sun bleeding while he'd saved others. Street sparks who hadn't had to die there so far from home under the jungle canopy.

Helios lifted his head, fingers lightly stroking First Aid's arm. He wouldn't lose another one. He couldn't lose another one. "Now," he said lifting his hand. "Which one of you got slagged up the worst?" The ghosts of Pax returned to the past. Waiting.

**oOo**

**A/N:** I kind of like being in Helios' head. But, now First Aid is heading back to the _Ark_ and shenanigans shall ensue. Whether they're fun or terrible is yet to be decided.


	7. Chapter 7

The _Prowler_ landed without the fanfare of last time. Its hull breached in places, and scarred from shrapnel and weapons fire. It was wounded, but still deadly. Helios led the way off the ship, small steps quiet. Behind him Ruff cradled First Aid in his arms. His heavy steps echoed through the hangar but First Aid didn't stir. His quiet wheezing breaths painful to hear. Helios paid no attention to Ratchet, but focused his words on Prowl. "Keep him still another septorn, he's sedated now." Helios' words were short and clipped nothing how he usually spoke. Prowl nodded and led Ruff from the hangar on silent feet.

Ratchet stayed businesslike, easy enough when talking about patients, "Did you get all the shrapnel out or do I need to do an exploratory before it heals?"

"What's left in there isn't coming out," Helios said. "None of it's in critical positions. His body will heal around it." His optics stayed on the door Ruff had carried First Aid through before finally landing on Ratchet. "You keep him safe, Ratchet, or I will come after you." His golden optics were flat and cold like a predator's. Whatever glitch the attack had triggered was still affecting him and Ratchet nodded instead of snapping at him like he normally would. Helios was just as dangerous as a frontliner, more so with his medical training.

Ruff came back empty handed looking more surly than usual. He didn't even bother looking at Ratchet to sneer, just stalked past him and back onto the ship. "He will be ready and waiting for you when repairs are complete," Red Alert said, coming in after Ruff. Prowl in all likelihood was with First Aid helping Hoist and Grapple set up everything they needed. Shrapnel in the intakes was about as serious as it got. Spontaneous hemorrhaging could still happen even after the septorn of travel the _Prowler_ had done to rendezvous with the _Ark_. First Aid needed to be monitored constantly for another septorn or longer to make sure no further surgery was needed to clear his intakes. And while there was no danger of migrating shrapnel now, that could change in an orn. Being carried by Ruff could have jostled something loose. This was by far the most dangerous time for him.

Helios gave Red Alert a curt nod and then his optics softened. He cupped Red Alert's cheek once as a creator might and then boarded the _Prowler_ with Ruff. Red Alert canted his head to the side as if listening to something far away. "Prowl reports First Aid's vitals are holding steady. No sign of metal migrating."

Ratchet nodded and headed for the med bay to see for himself. One thing he and Helios had always had in common was checking patients themselves. Ratchet didn't care if Primus himself came down and said First Aid would be all right, Ratchet was going to double check. Too many hard lessons learned between the two of them to let anyone take care of their patients.

It might not seem like a big deal to the others onboard having First Aid transferred to a larger ship with better equipment, but the juvenile's condition was fragile. Ratchet wouldn't stand for having one of his patients transferred unless there was absolutely no way he could guarantee the mech would survive without someone else. Sideswipe called him a control glitch. It wasn't. He was one of the best medics in the service and transferring a patient to someone else would be putting them in lesser care. He was, for all of Helios' faults and sins, a little humbled the mech had trusted him with one of his patients. Although, if the roles were reversed and he had to transfer Bumblebee or Bluestreak, Helios was the only mech he would call.

Windfall looked up when he came in from where he'd not really been studying his datpad but watching Prowl, Hoist, and Grapple double check monitors and settings. "What happened?" he asked with more than a little curiosity.

"_Prowler_ engaged enemies, First Aid was caught in the crossfire," Ratchet said not really listening while he went over the connections and readings himself a couple times. Everything looked and sounded stable. He dialed up his audio and put his head by First Aid's chest listening to the soft rasp and wheeze of his breath. Not healthy in the least, but it was strong given the damage done to his chest. "Have you given him anymore?" he asked Hoist, checking the fluids entering First Aid's system. Helios had already forwarded the cocktail of painkillers and sedatives First Aid was on. It was a good combination at steady levels they could easily decrease or increase as needed.

Hoist nodded, "Yes," he said for added measure since Ratchet was still watching the monitor checking First Aid's spark pulse. "And gave him another two units as soon as he was hooked up." An alarm chimed in his HUD, the exact time and measurements of First Aid's dose. Ratchet nodded.

"Very good, thank you. I'll take first shift." First Aid's condition meant Ratchet was not comfortable leaving him alone for any significant length of time. And that meant someone in the med bay overnight every night until he felt First Aid could recharge through the night without threat of welds coming loose and him suffocating on his own energon.

"I'll take second," Prowl said. He said nothing else but turned and left the room. Ratchet made an irritated sound. Even with Helios on his way with the _Prowler_ he still felt like he was being watched like a sparkling. He was perfectly capable of taking care of a severe injury without input from Prowl or Red Alert or anyone else.

First Aid made a soft sound and shifted a little in his recharge before settling with a wheezing sigh. Ratchet shooed Hoist, Grapple, and Windfall out to get recharge and food while he went to his office to get his work for the orn. Sitting down on a berth next to First Aid he started the time consuming work that was supply orders.

**oOo**

First Aid coughed himself awake two orns later, optics dull and darker than the blue Ratchet remembered. He made a soft sound of pain and wheezed Helios' name. Ratchet stroked a gentle hand down his head. "Easy now, you're aboard the _Ark_. You're safe," he said softly. The amount of pain killers he was on dragged him back under after a few breems and Ratchet watched the monitors and listened to his systems for several breems after that.

"How is he?" Wheeljack asked from the doorway. Ratchet kept stroking the small fins along First Aid's head. Wheeljack came up next to him and rested his chin on Ratchet's shoulder. It was an annoying habit he'd started back at university when he wanted to know what Ratchet was working on. Usually Ratchet shoved him off, but this time he let Wheeljack stay, most of his focus still on the small apprentice.

"Alive," Ratchet answered. At this stage in healing it was the best and only answer he would give. The shrapnel had shredded his intakes like confetti and not for the first time Ratchet wasn't ashamed to admit Helios was an incredible medic. Ratchet could count on one hand the medics he knew that could repair the damage done to First Aid's systems and that was only if they had access to a fully staffed, top of the line emergency center. When it came to putting mechs back together with scrap metal and a prayer he and Helios were the uncontested lords of medicine and miracles.

Wheeljack's scanners hummed sending a prickly vibration through Ratchet's shoulder and he finally shook the engineer off. "Primus," Wheeljack swore softly. "He should be dead, Ratch, how the frag did he do that?"

"He cashed in a debt," Ratchet said without humor. After Primus took enough lives from a medic he started owing on them. It was an old joke that had lost its black humor eons ago. Ratchet had never found it particularly funny but in Helios' case it seemed the most likely explanation for how First Aid was still alive. Primus would owe Helios lives until the end of time for all He had taken during Pax.

Wheeljack pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, "I'll bring you some energon."

Even when Prowl arrived to watch First Aid, Ratchet stayed close. Every short wheeze coming from the young mech's mouth was a victory but Ratchet wasn't close to celebrating. Prowl lay on his chest on a berth along the wall, wings down around his shoulders while he fiddled with his newest puzzle.

"How is Helios?" Ratchet asked a little awkwardly. It was no secret the two didn't like each other, but the attack had triggered some kind of memory cascade. Ratchet told himself he was more concerned about the mechs under Helios' care.

Prowl canted his head, looking up from his puzzle. His crimson optics watched Ratchet for a long breem. "Fine." It was amazing how much rancor one mech could put into a word. He returned to the complex puzzle Ratchet was pretty sure Red Alert had designed for him. The shifting sphere was a hundred different colors and each color a slightly different shade. It looked like when he was done they would line up to match the colors of an ocean sunset. The top was already pretty shades of blue and the bottom inky black. Prowl stared at the colors one hand flexing against the empty berth, sharp claws slid out and clicked against the surface.

"I know he's not as fragile as he looks," Ratchet said with a thread of irritation. "But he seemed shaken. He didn't even make a rude comment about the Prime."

"He had more serious concerns. He'll make up for it when he returns."

Ratchet gave up talking to Prowl, not that he'd get much more out of the black mech. Prowl hardly ever spoke and their short conversation probably used up all the words he wanted to spare for the night as well as the next orn. Rubbing his optics, he checked First Aid for the umpteenth time and finally dragged himself from the med bay to his quarters. He still didn't know how much medical training Prowl had gleaned from the energon bath at Pax, but he was practical. If something with First Aid changed and he couldn't handle it, he would call Ratchet.

**oOo**

Two septorns later, Ratchet watched Windfall successfully work through a procedure. He would say it was like pulling teeth, but he'd pulled teeth both with and without numbing agents and this was more painful. At this stage in his apprenticeship he should have been done in half a joor, but three joors after starting he was done and it was right. And those two things were all he could ask for.

Red Alert sat on the same berth Prowl always used reading a datpad. Since Windfall's lessons took all of his concentration he allowed the somewhat overbearing gesture while Hoist was in the back doing inventory for him.

First Aid's monitor beeped and Ratchet was next to him a spark pulse later. His recovery was going faster than Windfall's learning but his injury was still severe and metal migration was still a threat. Sparkling blue optics foggy with medication tried to focus on him. "First Aid," Ratchet said softly. "You're safe." The small mech's face scrunched a little and his optics focused a little better. "You still need recharge, don't fight it."

Red Alert didn't move from his berth but his twilight purple optics flashed with blue lightning. Ratchet got a minor bout of feedback from whatever scanner the glitchy mech used, not enough to disturb his own scans, but enough to annoy. He shot the red mech a glare. Between wheezy breaths First Aid tried to speak but the word was nothing more than a raspy whisper. His spark pulse kicked up a notch and Ratchet ignored Red Alert and his scans while he tried to calm the juvenile.

First Aid tried to speak again but his unused vocalizer refused to get the word out. His breathing sped up to match his spark pulse. Ratchet stroked the plates along the top of his head at an unhurried pace even as worry crept into his processor. "It's all right, First Aid. The attack is over." The drugs started to take the juvenile back under even as he fought.

"Swift is fine, First Aid," Red Alert said from where he sat. "She has already made a full recovery." His voice didn't boom or echo but it carried well and in his drugged haze First Aid understood some part of what he said. His spark pulse slowed and in seconds he was back in recharge.

"Swift?" Ratchet said once he was certain the juvenile was recharging peacefully. He didn't know the name but past the worst offenders on board the _Prowler_ he didn't know much else about the motley crew.

"She was injured in the same explosion. He is the one who brought her systems back online and she in turn got him to Helios before he suffocated," Red Alert said without any indication of how he felt about that.

Ratchet continued stroking First Aid's head. "Given the trauma he went through I'm surprised he remembered that," he said, mostly to himself since he wasn't expecting an answer from Red Alert.

"He is fond of details. It's why he is such a good apprentice." The words were said in the same flat tone as before but Ratchet gave him a sharp look. He knew Red Alert well enough to know when an insult was leveled no matter how the words were said. Red Alert didn't see the look, his focus back on his datpad.

Turning away from Red Alert, he said to Windfall, "Let's go over what we're doing tomorrow so you can prepare tonight."

Ratchet shooed Windfall out with his study material and collapsed on the berth next to First Aid with an exhausted huff. "Keep up with that, Ratchet and mechs might think you're old," Hoist said leaning over him. Ratchet cracked one optic open and snorted.

"They can think what they want, they say it and they'll have a wrench in their mouths." He pushed himself up with a groan. He was getting too old to be carrying frontliners to and fro. Maybe the apprentice thing wasn't a pit-slagging terrible idea after all. Well, it wasn't if his apprentice had any retention. He'd be lucky if Windfall could get through half the procedure tomorrow before first shift ended.

Hoist watched him with concern. "Why don't you recharge a bit? When's the last time you actually recharged through the night and not just the two joors before first shift?" Hoist had a point, but Ratchet had other tedious duties to attend to.

"I'm not that old, yet," Ratchet said swinging his feet off the berth. He checked First Aid's monitors once more and took the inventory pad from Hoist. Hoist sighed but let him go. Ratchet knew the conversation wasn't over. He checked his chronometer and estimated he had three joors to get his work caught up before he'd be pulled away.

Two breems after second shift ended, Wheeljack walked into Ratchet's office and sat down on his desk. "I assume Hoist sent you," Ratchet said without looking up.

"I haven't had anyone call me a half-glitched suicidal lunatic in two orns. I miss you," Wheeljack said. Ratchet laughed and sat back. He wasn't all the way caught up but it was enough it wouldn't haunt him while he relaxed with Wheeljack. "Are you going to come quietly, or do I have to embarrass both of us by trying to pick you up."

"I've got a sedative that says you'll be out cold before you get two arms around me." He got up anyway. "Move, I need to make sure he's all right." Wheeljack scooted out of the way and followed Ratchet into the med bay. First Aid coughed once and fidgeted but his respiration and spark pulse stayed steady. Ratchet checked the lines of fluids for kinks and made sure they were full. He sighed softly and Wheeljack put his chin on his shoulder. One orn, Ratchet was going to smack him, hard. But he let it slide this orn.

"How is he?" Wheeljack murmured. "He looks about the same to me? Is he? Is he getting better?"

Ratchet stroked the top of First Aid's head watching his spark pulse and respiration on the monitors. "Fighting," he said at last. "Fighting everything; the injury, the sedative. He's going to wake up soon even if I don't want it. The longer he's recharging the easier it is on his systems. Once he's awake he'll want to move and speak." He rubbed his optics. He couldn't up the sedative anymore just to keep the mechling under. It was no longer life threatening for him to be awake, it would just slow the healing.

Wheeljack made an understanding sound. "Stubborn little mechling. Sounds like you." He shrugged the inventor off with an irritated sound. "Come on, you need energon and recharge, especially if you little patient is going to be difficult," Wheeljack said with a cheeky smile. "Not that you'd know how to deal with a difficult patient."

"I've still got that sedative."

**oOo**

**A/N:** I promise, this is still very much alive! I'm really trying to get my other story done so I can focus on this one and hopefully get it wrapped up before I'm out of the country. Anyway, thank you everyone for R/R/F/F! If you want to know what I'm up to, the link to my blog is on my profile. Cheers!


	8. Chapter 8

"First Aid, you need to stay still awhile longer," Ratchet said softly. Sparkling blue optics, still unfocused from the cocktail of drugs swirling in his system, squinted at him. "You're intakes are still healing," Ratchet continued, stroking the top of his head. "Take it slow." First Aid's head moved a little under his hand in what might have been a nod but the mechling slipped into recharge once more. Ratchet let out a sigh of relief. He'd been worried First Aid would start fighting the sedative in earnest once he woke.

Slipping his fingers to the back of First Aid's head he input a medical tag. The tags were usually used on frontliners, it was how Ratchet found them on the field, but with as damaged as First Aid was he needed to know the astrosecond if things started to take a turn for the worst.

He stayed a few breems longer watching the monitors and listening to First Aid's breathing. His chest was still a mess, healing, but slowly. There was no way for the wound to truly rest, not while First Aid was still breathing. Every breath tested the welds and energon seeped to the surface.

**oOo**

Windfall managed to close all of the open lines, although, had the patient been alive they would have expired several breems ago from a clot that the apprentice failed to notice. He looked up at Ratchet hopefully. Instead of immediately pointing out the mistake, Ratchet said, "Very good with the procedure; your welds are much cleaner than yesterorn." Windfall's face fell.

"What did I miss this time?" he asked hunching his shoulders, staring at the hologram. "I read through everything, twice! I did it last night and I did it this morning. What am I doing wrong?" Misery rolled off him. His buoyant carefree attitude had dulled and dimmed to a ghost of itself over the septorns. He would say this sort of disappointment was good for a medic early on, but Windfall had to save at least one hologram before he could move into the next phase of his training.

Ratchet reconsidered what he was going to say in the face of Windfall's despair. "These procedures," Ratchet said carefully in a soft voice, rough from disuse, "are meant to mimic real scenarios as close as possible. You did the procedure perfect. There is nothing wrong there, but you have to be alert to your patient at all times. You may be keeping them from hemorrhaging but that doesn't mean something else isn't going wrong." He changed the hologram to translucent so they could see the internals and highlighted where the clot had lodged in the spark. "I know this is rough and it's a lot to remember, but when you're actually in the field things are going to be even worse. Always watch your patient. That, above all else, is imperative. Watch their energon pressure, watch their spark pulse, watch their respiration. All of it is going to tell you if they're improving or if something else is going wrong."

Windfall nodded but didn't look to be heartened by the lesson. "Why does this have to be so hard," he muttered. Ratchet almost snorted but caught himself in time. This was nothing. This was just getting apprentice medics used to implementing procedures in real life scenarios. The only consequence to doing something wrong or not getting it done fast enough was a lecture and reset of the hologram. This was the easy part.

In his HUD, an alarm chimed and he set all concerns about Windfall to the side and strode back to the med bay proper. First Aid fidgeted on his berth, optics fluttering. Ratchet sighed and ran his hand down First Aid's cephalic fins. "Little mech, you'll feel better if you recharge longer," he said softly. First Aid's optics were two shades too dark and unfocused but he continued to fight to consciousness.

"Is he all right?" Windfall asked from several steps away, worried lines furrowed on his brow. Ratchet nodded and watched First Aid's monitors a little longer before sighing. Dialing back the sedative he kept watch as First Aid's optics began to clear.

"If your patient starts fighting too much, bring down the sedative levels and let them wake. They'll just slow the healing if they're constantly fighting," Ratchet said offhand as he watched First Aid's respiration and spark pulse closely watching the fluctuations as the juvenile came to wakefulness.

"Who are you talking to?" Hoist asked. Ratchet started and turned around. Hoist stood where Windfall had been, giving him a quizzical look. The tall juvenile was nowhere in the med bay. "Is he actually awake? Primus, he's a stubborn little thing." Hoist came up next to Ratchet and checked the monitors first before he scanned the little juvenile himself. "You're gonna hurt, mechling, best to recharge a bit longer," he said softly.

"That's what I've been telling him for a septorn," Ratchet grumbled. Making an irritated sound he said to Hoist, "Grab a couple energon chips for him. Make sure you get the low grade." Hoist nodded and went to the back to get the chips.

"Helios?" First Aid slurred. Ratchet ran his hand over the juvenile's head.

"Not yet, mechling," Ratchet said. "I'm certain he'll be calling as soon as he's in range, until then, you need to rest."

**oOo**

"First Aid," Ratchet said without looking up from what he was doing with Windfall. The small juvenile stopped trying to lift his head. After two orns the stubborn Pit-spawn thought he was healthy enough to be moving around. Ratchet hadn't gotten any work done between Windfall's lessons and keeping First Aid still.

And Wheeljack was in the bay "helping" him which meant he was getting into his usual brand of trouble. Right now though, Ratchet could keep an optic on his careless friend and the juvenile who didn't understand the phrase "don't move" since Wheeljack was on the berth behind First Aid.

When Ratchet did look at the juvenile he again had his head raised a bit and was watching Windfall's hands with rapt attention. Rubbing his optics Ratchet sighed and Windfall froze. "Not you Windfall," Ratchet reassured. "You're doing fine, finish this step and take a break." He gave First Aid a pointed look and the little mech lay back with a bashful expression. Wheeljack looked at the little apprentice with a fond smile.

Windfall finished the procedure and Ratchet gave him a curt nod. The juvenile sagged with the same kind of relief Ratchet felt after a marathon surgery. Leaving Windfall's side he saw First Aid cringe when he approached but Ratchet was content with a glare instead of a lecture. Wheeljack jumped off his berth and was in Ratchet's personal space in two quick strides. "Why don't you let him watch?" Wheeljack asked. "It's not hurting anything, Windfall doesn't even notice him."

"He's supposed to be lying still, not observing a lesson," Ratchet answered irritably, stiff-arming Wheeljack so he had some room to breathe. Wheeljack didn't comment on the rough treatment, if he even noticed. They'd been friends so long it was only when someone else pointed out Ratchet's ungentle way of giving himself space that Wheeljack became aware he'd been shoved.

"Well he's clearly bored," Wheeljack's voice made it clear he thought Ratchet was dense for not realizing that. "You'd be up and moving around too if a medic told you to lie still for two septorns. Primus, you'd be out the door as soon as the mech had his back turned." Ratchet didn't dispute that, his was Pit-spawned patient on the rare occasion he had been injured enough to require extended berth rest.

Still, First Aid was a juvenile that, with any other medic, would have died in the _Prowler_'s med bay. Bored or not, he did _not_ need to be fidgeting like he was. Giving him a good view of what Windfall was doing would require sitting him up in a way that could cause metal migration or labored intakes. Nothing Ratchet was going to risk. Wheeljack could think First Aid was well on his way to recovery but Ratchet had learned many times over in the worst of ways that complacency killed mechs. If he let First Aid fidget now he might be fine, but what when he wanted to sit up and walk around? He'd be bleeding out on the floor in a spark pulse.

"No," Ratchet said with finality that made Wheeljack scowl at him. The engineer was a good secondary medic, but Wheeljack's primary function had never been and never would be medicine. "'Jack, just lifting his head at this stage is still enough to jar that metal loose. Until his firewalls fully contain it and those wounds scar over he can still _bleed out_." Whatever angry thing Wheeljack was going to say was never voiced and a troubled look crossed his face before a stubborn one Ratchet knew too well replaced it. Sighing with an undertone of a growl he went in to his office to find his reports he needed to file.

"He still needs something to do, Ratch," Wheeljack said leaning against the doorjamb. Wheeljack's fins pulsed a blue-purple color not many saw. Stubborn, frustrating, irritating mech. Ratchet growled at him and Wheeljack folded his arms across his chest, the color darkening more to purple.

"Fine," Ratchet snapped. He never won the argument when Wheeljack really dug his heels in, one of the reasons their relationship worked. The crew might think Ratchet bossed Wheeljack around, but if the engineer didn't want to do something or, more often, wanted Ratchet to do something he had a stubborn streak to match Ratchet's. Wheeljack's fins returned to their neutral white and he smiled brightly. "Glitched pain in my aft," Ratchet growled. Wheeljack blew him a kiss and ducked out before Ratchet's wrench bounced off the door.

**oOo**

Ratchet walked in to the med bay the next orn after hardly two joors of recharge. His only patient at the moment was wide awake and trying to follow Hoist's movements as he puttered around the bay. At least until Hoist greeted Ratchet, then in a flash First Aid was a good patient lying still like he was supposed to be. Ratchet sighed but walked over to the berth.

First Aid's optics slid bashfully to the side. Still annoyed with First Aid's refusal to hold still he wasn't angry at the little mech because Wheeljack was right, as he usually was. Had Ratchet been in First Aid's place the head medic would've had to sedate him. He could not stand doing nothing when there were always things to be done. "Here," Ratchet said in a voice still rough from his brief nap. He handed First Aid an old datpad. Curiosity lit First Aid's sparkling blue optics. He raised part of First Aid's berth enough the juvenile would be comfortable reading. "This should keep you occupied for a septorn at least." He wasn't exaggerating; the datpad had all of his texts and notes from his time at Iacon University as well as his first vorn apprenticeship. First Aid's curiosity jumped to excitement when he realized what he had. "Stay still," Ratchet ordered.

First Aid nodded a bit more vigorously than Ratchet was comfortable with but he looked so excited scrolling through the pages Ratchet didn't scold. "Thank you," his soft voice was a little hoarse too from damage and disuse. Ratchet ran his hand over his cephalic fins without a thought and then turned to his first shift duties.

Each time he glanced up at his little patient he was relieved to see First Aid's sparkling blue optics trained on the datpad darting to and fro but the rest of him quiet and still. "Must be a good text," Hoist said with a fond smile at the juvenile. His smile turned conspiratorial, "You didn't give him one of Wheeljack's "blueprint" datpads that he just so happens to leave in your quarters, did you?" Ratchet snorted a laugh, a real laugh. But in all honesty, he had double checked the datpad before giving it to First Aid to make sure it wasn't one of Wheeljack's erotic texts. It was well and good the only mechs who knew about Wheeljack's guilty reading pleasure were Hoist and himself, if Blaster ever caught wind of it the engineer would never live it down. And he'd drag Ratchet down with him, probably leave them scattered about the med bay just to incriminate him.

First Aid didn't look up though he had to have heard their quiet laughter; he remained engrossed in the text.

Ratchet looked up intermittently from Windfall's lesson but First Aid wasn't paying attention to the procedure. His brow furrowed in concentration and he absently chewed the corner of his mouth but he was a galaxy away from everything else that was happening in the med bay. He returned his attention to Windfall's slow and shaky progress. He took his time carefully cauterizing the smaller lines he always forgot at the end of the procedure, but he'd forgotten the tear in the mainline further up. The hologram bled out at the same moment he realized his mistake and swore.

"You're learning," Ratchet said for lack of anything else. At least he'd noticed this time, even if it was too late. He'd count that as progress. Windfall didn't say anything just stared at the hologram not even angry just blank and defeated. "Windfall," Ratchet said also looking over the hologram and withholding a grimace. Even if he'd managed to remember everything his welding needed a lot of work. There was a good chance some of the seals would break open from the energon pressure.

"Take two orns and do something you enjoy. Forget medicine, surgeries, all of it. Forget about it and do something that makes you happy." Windfall looked up with an expression that said he couldn't remember how to do that. "Self-care," Ratchet said shutting down the hologram "is what will keep you alive in this business. We've been going over a great deal since you arrived, you need time to unclutter your thoughts. Go watch a holovid or spar with someone. Do something, anything, but medicine for the next two orns and when you come back you'll feel better." Windfall sighed and nodded gathering his materials. Ratchet glanced up at First Aid whose optics were beginning to droop. He'd have to take the datpad away from him or he'd push himself to stay up all night reading.

**oOo**

"I thought containment…was the best way to deal with…an outbreak," First Aid said from his berth. His staccato phrases were interrupted by shallow panting breaths that would be alarming in a healthy mech. Ratchet's old datpad sat on his knees but it wasn't on. Ratchet hadn't had to take it back after all, before third shift ended the juvenile had been sound in recharge. Now, he was wide awake and had apparently been composing a list of questions while he was dreaming. Ratchet pulled out packages of sterile needles and gauze from the shipment box.

"It is," Ratchet said slowly as he answered the question and kept count of the packages at the same time. "That theory is meant for widespread outbreak of a fast moving agent, something either dispersed over a population or left unchecked for a long time. In that," he finished the box and put his full focus on the question, "you need two steps of containment, you need to keep the general population contained so the agent doesn't spread further. You also need to contain those in the infected population that are healthy to either keep them that way or see if they have a natural antibody that you can distill into a vaccine."

First Aid looked thoughtful as he went over that. "We didn't talk about that," his brow wrinkled in the same look of concentration Ratchet had seen yesterday while he read. "We didn't talk at all…about how to contain…outbreak on that scale." His concentrated look turned troubled.

Ratchet's optics drifted over the med bay, memories long pushed to the side threatened to claw to the surface. "Those texts were written when bioagents were still being used," he said softly. In the back of his mind he could see the quiet towns he had seen, population decimated by the bioagents. Corpses on the street where the ill had finally succumbed, medics slouched over slides and microscopes and patients where they had tried until their final breaths to save at least one.

He blinked and pushed the memories back below. "Given there's no way to really control who gets infected with bioagents they're not used like that anymore, the information in those texts will be somewhat dated."

First Aid chewed the corner of his mouth and his brow stayed wrinkled. "Well, we should still know about it," he said at last looking at Ratchet with troubled sparkling blue optics. "Just because they're not used…like that anymore doesn't mean they won't be…again. I can't believe everyone…destroyed their stores of…bioweapons. What if…accident?"

Ratchet set another crate on the berth and thought over First Aid's question. True enough no one had intentionally loosed a bioagent in some time, but if push came to shove he wasn't naïve enough to think Megatron wouldn't get them out again. And First Aid was right, somewhere scattered across the universe, the contagions were under lockdown but that didn't mean accidents didn't still happen. All it would take was one carrier to walk down the street for some of those agents to wreck their havoc. All it would take was one mech to walk into a hospital with mild symptoms and infect dozens. If the young medics coming up through the ranks didn't know how to handle an outbreak on the level of not just a city but a whole _colony_…so many mistakes. Ratchet's peers and predecessors had made so many mistakes trying to fix it. So many had died before they figured it out, before they'd gotten it right. They weren't mistakes that needed to be repeated.

Again the images tried to rise from the dark place he'd left them. Open sores, choked breathing, screams of pain from those that could still breathe. Medics locked in containment cells with the dying trying to give comfort even as they died with them. A sharp breath and Ratchet lifted his head, the movement jerking the memories back. "You're right," he said, glad his voice didn't betray the agony of his memories. "That's not something Iacon should be growing lax about." He shifted his thoughts in the direction of what he needed to do to get mass outbreak back on Iacon's curriculum. He couldn't be the only voice, he needed to get in touch with his colleagues.

His answer seemed to satisfy First Aid who asked a few more questions about basic virology and how to make vaccines. His questions were more routine and didn't stir up memories but Ratchet was slow unpacking the crates as he answered.

The questions tired First Aid quickly and Ratchet made him lie down and nap for a couple joors while he finished unpacking his supplies and started the long process or rotating in the new supplies.

"Ratchet, do you know…what Rennin is?" First Aid asked just a few breems after he woke. Ratchet looked up from what he was doing, the name sounded familiar but he couldn't quite figure out why. "Helios said it…was a barge stop…Iacon." Ratchet finally found the snippet of memory, Rennin had been the focal point for one of many C-12 outbreaks around Iacon.

"I remember it," Ratchet said, "I don't know much about it; I know there was an outbreak there." He tried to pull more from the memory but it had been at the height of the bioagent plagues and at the time it had just been one more city destroyed. "Why?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

First Aid's optics were on the dark datpad in his lap and he didn't answer for a few short breaths. "That's where they found…me." Ratchet blinked. Blinked again and stared at the little mech. C-12 hadn't left much in the way of survivors, even senior virologists had been brought down by it. He did the math of First Aid's age and his vague memory of Rennin. He couldn't have been more than a sparkling, if that.

"How?" The incredulous question slipped out before he could stop it. He amended it a little and said, "if you weren't a newspark you were…Primus, you couldn't have been more than five vorns. C-12 killed _everything_. Primus, in places it killed the insects. How?" he repeated. He knew there was no way First Aid could answer the question but it rocked him to the core that the mechling was here in his med bay and hadn't been shoveled into a pit with the other victims.

First Aid hunched his shoulders a little. "I don't know. That's just…that's where I was. Where my creators were." There was so much misery in him, old and new pain freely mixing. "Helios said I should start…there looking for them."

Ratchet rubbed his face still trying to work past the tingling shock First Aid had left him with. "I'm sorry, First Aid, I wasn't anywhere near Iacon when the news of Rennin broke." He couldn't remember where he'd been. Somewhere cold, Praxus? Kaon before Megatron closed the borders for good? "But Blaster should be able to get you more information. He's scheduled in tomorrow for a firewall update, you can ask him." Some of the misery lifted and First Aid looked up hopefully. Ratchet hoped the loudmouth street spark could do something for the juvenile.

**oOo**

Blaster slid into the med bay two seconds before he would've been late and Ratchet's optic twitched. The flashy mech gave him a look that was nothing but innocence and hopped up on a berth. Ratchet flicked the back of his head and took his arm to start the update. First Aid was still in recharge, with his arm curled around Ratchet's datpad. He hadn't stirred since Ratchet had entered for first shift. Even with Blaster in front of him he kept a sharp optic on the juvenile. He shouldn't have let him talk so long yesterorn. He needed to do a thorough scan of his wound and make sure the energon still seeping from his welds was normal and not a breach.

"The lil' mech okay?" Blaster asked with uncanny seriousness. Though it was only mechs who took Blaster at face value that thought he was blithe and clueless. The mech was smart, ruthless, and quite frankly, very scary. He'd been raised by two of the most feared street lords in Iacon, possibly all of Cybertron. Reverb and Boom had run the streets of Iacon with an iron fist and their pack, Feedback, had flourished like none of the others. At tower level the high class might have thought they were in charge, but on the streets if the enforcers ever thought to actually arrest someone they'd be dead before they could snap the stasis cuffs on. Blaster had taken every lesson to spark. The most important, the one law which all pack abided by, Family First. And for his own unfathomable reasons, Blaster had decided First Aid was, if not family, someone to keep an optic on.

First Aid didn't know it, might never know it, but he had an army at his back and Ratchet well and truly pitied any mech that so much as scratched his paint. Ratchet and the street sparks might not see optic to optic on a lot of things, but he was glad the small mech had some kind of protection no matter where his life took him.

"I let him sit up and talk too long yesterorn," Ratchet said in a somewhat distracted way as he watched both Blaster's firewalls and First Aid. "Should've been paying more attention," he muttered.

Blaster laughed and Ratchet raised an optic but didn't shift his focus. "Hatchet, you pay any more attention to him you'll just have to stand over him until he's well enough to run from this bay." A corner of Ratchet's mouth twitched up in a smile. Blaster was relentless when it came to teasing Ratchet about his overbearing nature in the med bay. It had angered him at first until he realized Blaster really had no context for why Ratchet ran his bay the way he did. He'd spent his entire life with only the bare minimum of care. Those not strong enough to survive, didn't.

Now he took the jibes in stride. "Some of my patients are more delicate than others," Ratchet said. "Like those pretty greenhouse plants in Praxus." Blaster's toothy smile was genuine. "That little flower in particular has something he wants to ask you, I'll message you when he wakes." Ratchet finished the upgrade and Blaster's cool blue optics sparked with curiosity but he sauntered from the med bay without a look back.

First Aid finally woke just after second shift started. He looked better than he had the orn before and his spark pulse was the strongest it had been since he'd come under Ratchet's care. He still wasn't celebrating or taking away any restrictions. Not for another septorn at least. "Blaster here yet?" he asked a little groggy.

"I messaged him," Ratchet said stroking his cephalic fins. "He'll be here in a few breems." First Aid woke up more a little spark of excitement in his dark blue optics. Ratchet checked his vitals and made sure the synced with his HUD and left to get a few more crates unpacked.

Blaster waltzed in, music blaring but not at the audio shattering decibels he was capable of. Ratchet still glared at him, as the ritual went. First Aid smiled at him, Ratchet watched their interaction carefully. He still had a No Visitors policy up for the juvenile but he might loosen that to Supervised Visits if he did all right with Blaster.

"Hi Blaster," First Aid said softly, a short breath punctuating each word. Blaster leaned on the berth with a winning smile. Blaster turned his music down a little so First Aid didn't have to strain to speak over it.

"What can'a do ya' for, lil' mech?"

First Aid had to take several breaths before he could speak again. But he was almost glowing with excitement "Is there a…database for immigrants…through Rennin?" Ratchet thought he was going to fall into recharge before he finished his sentence and his optics were a little darker with impending recharge. Still too soon for visitors then.

Blaster canted his head to the side and shrugged carelessly. "No idea, where's it at?" First Aid's excitement tempered but he told Blaster as much as he knew about it. Blaster listened, his gemstone optics so often cold were thoughtful and when First Aid finished he said, "I'll ask Red to look. If any anyone took even a scrap of notes on who was in Rennin, he'll find it." First Aid blinked often trying to keep his optics open and focused. Blaster grinned at him. "Back to recharge, lil' mech and by the time you can stay awake long enough to read I'll have it for ya'." First Aid nodded and lay back slipping into recharge with a smile tugging the corner of his mouth.

Blaster gave Ratchet a smart inquisitive look. "What's in Rennin? Never heard of the place." His tone said that surprised him and Ratchet believed it. If it was an important stop Feedback would have known about it.

"Large raw goods," Ratchet answered, having looked up a little more about Rennin the night before. "Minerals, timber, steel, crystal." Blaster nodded, satisfied with the explanation. Feedback had been an empire of the streets but not even they could get into the tight ranks of high class trading of raw goods. "That is where they found First Aid," Ratchet added softer. He watched the juvenile recharge. Nowhere in the news he had found on Rennin had they mentioned a found sparkling, though the mechs who found him had probably thought he'd die soon. "He managed to survive a C-12 outbreak when he was barely more than a newspark. If there's a database, there's a good chance his creators are there."

Blaster canted his head to the side, the light reflecting off his pale optics. Ratchet had never asked Blaster if he'd gone searching for his creators. He couldn't imagine with both his skills as well as Red Alert's that he hadn't at least considered it. "That's a weird thing to want," he said but shrugged.

"You've never wondered?" Ratchet asked softly.

Blaster straightened his head. "Doesn't matter who pushed me out," he answered in a rare moment of honesty. "I know who my family was."

**oOo**

**A/N:** Hey-oh! Still alive. I made it to China and now I'm working through my culture shock with writing. Thank you for being patient and for R/R/F/F!


	9. Chapter 9

Helios stood in the back of the crowded room, shadowed and too small to really be noticed; most would think him a juvenile. He watched the mech at the podium in the front of the assembly hall. The hall was lit artificially like candlelight, intimate and soft. A stark contrast to the bombastic voice of the speaker. Lights gleamed off the crystal lattice sculptures running up the wall, above, diamond ceiling supports glittered like stars in the soft light. The mechs and femmes sitting were well tended by servants with drinks and delicate snacks.

The speaker's voice thundered through the room as mechs and femmes polished to a high gloss nodded silently and sipped vintage high grade. "Is it not enough we pay for the war," the speaker demanded. "Is it not enough that we can no longer move or trade freely?" Helios let the words flow over him. If he listened too hard to them he would become angry and that would cloud his judgment. He needed to be very sharp for this.

The mech continued to rant and the others in the audience continued to nod, optics sparking in refined anger. Helios took in all those he could see, recognized a few faces, and a cold cruel smile tugged the corner of his mouth. "Now the Prime asks us for our mechlings and femmlings when the cursed street scraps who started this war run rampant through the streets! Well I say no more. No more of ours will be fed to this war. The ones outside can spill their energon to finish what they started." His voice echoed through the hall, moisture beaded on him and his hands shook when he unclenched them from the podium. Most of the mechs stood clapping politely.

Helios stayed in the shadows as the high class mechs and femmes filed out with polite outrage in their murmurs. None noticed him. He was a shadow beneath their line of sight and they never looked down.

When the hall cleared he left his shadowed space and walked down the aisle dragging his fingers over the expensive fabric of the chairs. So soft, probably cost as much as a frigate to upholster the whole room. He didn't look around before sliding in to one. He reclined and considered polishing off the high grade left in the cup holder but decided against it. Later he'd sneak down the kitchens. Freakshow would glitch if he brought some back. A brief smile warmed his face before it dropped and he got up from the chair. He walked up to the stage and made his way to the maze in the back.

He had to try harder here to stay in the shadows. The mechs and femmes back here labored hard for their wages and their sharp optics didn't miss much. But exhaustion dogged them and Helios had vorns of practice at staying in the shadows.

He slipped into a room with soft golden light spilling out from under the door. The speaker paced, optics bright as if he'd been deeply moved by his own speech. But if a mech looked closely, if they were a medic like Helios, they would see his optics didn't focus on anything for long. His hands trembled and there was clumsiness in the way he turned in the small space.

It took him a few seconds to realize Helios was in the room. When he did he stumbled and stepped back but just as quickly he was almost too close. "Where have you been," the tall mech hissed. Helios didn't answer but pulled out a small packet of powder from a side compartment. The man made a grab for it but it was clumsy and slow. Helios was on his other side in a second.

"You think I'll just hand it over without payment?" Helios asked with mild annoyance. The mech cursed and pulled out credits and tossed them at his feet and reached for the packet again. Helios tossed it to the other side of the room. The mech swore a streak to make a street spark proud and scrambled after it. Helios left the credits on the floor and watched the mech tear into the packet.

The last dose the mech had been given Helios had cut the strength in half. Already rumors were trickling out that maybe the esteemed speaker had some behind the scenes issues his handlers needed to take care of. Helios was a bit surprised the mech had kept himself together as well as he had given the agony his addiction must have put him through while he waited for more drugs to arrive. The speaker dumped the contents directly into his mouth instead of mixing it with high grade like most did. Helios raised an optic ridge; that was the purest form of the opiate. That was going to make clean up so much easier. No reason to wait for drug screenings to come back to rule an overdose, it was right there all over his mouth. He gave the mech ten breems before he started trying to vomit.

He waited.

A breem after the drugs hit his system the speaker noticed him still standing there. "The frag you still here for, street scrap?" his words were slurred and his optics started to drift. A vague smile drifted across his face.

Helios stayed quiet and waited.

The mech slumped against the wall and let his head roll to the side. The loopy smile left his face and his optics paled almost white. Helios finally moved. He walked over and pushed the mech all the way to the floor with his foot. The mech didn't protest, his face remained slack and his optics unfocused on the ceiling. Nudging him onto his back so if he did vomit he'd choke, Helios resumed waiting.

A few breems later the first of Helios' medic alerts chimed. The mech's spark pulse was a little too slow, his respiration not as smooth as it should be. Helios silenced the alarm. He wandered back to the door and picked up the credits, tucking them in a compartment. Another alarm chimed this one more persistent. The mech's breathing was compromised, his labored intakes loud in the quiet room. His spark pulse was erratic. Helios pocketed a knickknack that looked like it was solid diamond. A ring with an obscenely large emerald disappeared into his compartments as well.

Silencing the alerts, Helios ambled over to the speaker and found the compartment the mech had pulled the credits from and found a larger roll. Pulling it out and counting through it he silenced another alarm. The mech's spark was doing everything it could to continue pulsing. Helios sighed and checked his chronometer. He needed to talk to Freakshow about weakening the stock more. The mech had built up enough of an immunity this was taking longer than it should have. If Helios had to get involved, questions might be raised about the manner of the mech's death.

The mech's labored breathing was loud enough anyone who might walk by would know something was wrong. Irritation dogged Helios. It wasn't like Freakshow to make these mistakes. The mech had been running drugs since he could walk. No, this wasn't his pack. The speaker must have gotten supplements from someone else. Good cover, but not part of the plan. They would have to be more vigilant with the others. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. Freakshow would enjoy reminding everyone of what happened when the Rising Sun was crossed. The mech's optics flickered, attempting emergency reboot.

A final shrieking alarm went off in Helios' HUD. Once upon a time, that alarm would have been his signal to leave. He hadn't been able to stay in the room as they died. There'd been pain then, pain and guilt, and sometimes sorrow.

But not since Pax.

After Pax it wasn't hard anymore to silence the alarm and watch the mech's breathing catch and slow and stop. It wasn't hard to watch his spark pulse flat line. Not since Pax when there had been so many alarms and so many silences that followed had he felt pain. And this mech was not worthy of that pain, of that sorrow. This mech who had never been in energon up to his elbows and knees. Who had never heard mechs and femmes barely in their juvenile vorns screaming and screaming and screaming.

He left the room as silent and unnoticed as he'd arrived. The tired mechs were mostly gone now it was only tired security he avoided easily. He detoured to the kitchen. The floors and countertops gleamed with spotless shine. He pulled open cabinets until he found the high grade and pulled out two bottles.

He returned to the _Prowler_ just outside the orbit of the colony. His light craft touched down in the hangar and before the decompression alert was off, Freakshow was in the hangar waiting for him. Helios handed him one of the bottles of high grade and Freakshow gave a low appreciative whistle as he read the label. Grinning and handing it over his shoulder to Ruff who wandered in he asked, "Problems?" They'd expected him back a joor ago.

"Nothing serious yet," Helios said walking into the ship proper. "Someone is pushing in our territory." Freakshow's sapphire optics glittered like ice. "Took a bit longer for him to go down that it should have," Helios continued.

"Maverik, Bandit," Freakshow yelled, his gravelly voice carrying through the halls. They continued walking toward the bridge and a few breems later a dark taupe mech joined them. Maverik, one of the last of the Strongback pack from lower Gygax. His city had been so destroyed by air raids no one outside of the pack still remembered it had been there. Plasfire burns scarred most of his frame but he still moved with silence and grace. His horns where short for a Gygaxian but they were still sharp and sturdy enough to punch through a mech's spark chamber.

Coming at them from the opposite hall a small Praxian femme skipped to meet them. Bandit wasn't intimidating, not like Ruff and Tuff. Her frame was slight for a Praxian, her limbs long and willowy. Not street sparked but street true nonetheless, she had once been in training as a Sky Dancer.

Until the war.

Until the draft.

Until Pax.

She carried her dancer grace with her still but that was all that remained of the femme that had once been. Her optics sparked and gleamed sometimes focused, sometimes not. Helios gave her a fond smile and she hugged him tightly as if he'd been gone vorns instead of two orns. Maybe for her it had been vorns. Maybe he wasn't himself but someone else.

"We've got someone thinks they can take over our well-paying clientele," Freakshow said, lighting up a smoke stick. Maverik lowered his chin, his short horns gleaming in the light and a scowl on his face. Bandit tilted her head to and fro like she didn't understand what Freakshow was saying. He brushed his knuckles down her cheek and gave her an affectionate smile. "You go scare 'em, lil' femme. This isn't their sky, it's ours."

Bandit's optics blazed with focus. "My sky," she hissed.

Freakshow took her chin in a gentle hold and stared directly into her focused optics. "You just scare," he said each word deliberately. "They still pack, you don't hurt them."

"Scare," Bandit said with a curt nod. Freakshow let her go and she gave him a dazzling smile. "Scare them right back to their creators' sparks," she said in a singsong voice.

Maverik laughed with her and held out his arm like a gentlemech. She giggled and looped her arm around his. "Shall we, m'lady?" he asked in a terrible imitation of the high class accent. Bandit laughed again and they headed to the hangar whispering and giggling with each other.

"She's been restless," Freakshow said as he and Helios continued down the hall. Helios nodded, he'd noticed it too. "And it's funny to hear Maverik tell how bad she scares those big aft mechs that think they can push her around." He grinned around his smoke stick and Helios laughed softly.

He heard Ruff and Tuff in the bridge when they turned the corner. A loud clang echoed down the hall and Helios rolled his optics. Glitches. Freakshow blew out a stream of smoke and rumbled, "You glitches frag each 'ther up an' I'll let Hummingbird put you back together."

A second later Ruff and Tuff looked around the corner at them, optics shrewd. "Ay yuh?" Ruff said. "I'm not startin' nothin', this glitch, ay yuh, he's the one hittin' a mech."

"Hittin' a mech who got no business complainin' when he's startin' troubles, ay," Tuff said and headbutted him.

"Primus glitch me an' give me peace," Freakshow grumbled walking between the two growling mechs. Ruff and Tuff broke apart and grinned at him, sauntering back into the bridge. Helios spied the bottle of high grade Freakshow had given Ruff. He grabbed an already poured glass and slid into the communication seat. Ruff made a huffing sound and swiped the other glass out of Tuff's hand and slammed it back.

Ignoring the brawl behind him and Freakshow's growled threats, Helios greeted the crimson red mech, "Ay, Love. All's well." He sipped the high grade watching Red Alert's optics flash with white lightning. The red mech didn't speak, but Helios had known the mechling since before he could walk. "Drama will be taking over Outer Colony 482-D before the septorn is done."

Red Alert nodded and then sighed with a trace of irritation, the little mechling Helios had known shining through for an instant. "Prowl was worried," he said. A smile curved Helios' mouth when said black mech shouldered Red Alert out of the way and made a low crooning sound in greeting. Helios chuckled and sat back in his chair. "Hello my little lion," he crooned back. Prowl's ruby optics glittered at the old nickname. "I've missed you terribly as well." The feral little beast had left more scars on him, both seen and unseen, than any other patient but Helios' love for the damnable creature was everlasting. "How is my little apprentice?" He asked. It would still be septorns before they could make covert contact. The Prime would be suspicious seeing them pop up so near OC 482-D with the former leader recently deceased.

Prowl canted his head and flicked the short fins on the side of his head. They resembled the diamond shaped ears of the marsh lions that had raised him and he used them in the same manner as the beasts. Red Alert was the most fluent in Prowl-speak, but Helios could understand a great deal of what he said. "Ah, good. Ratchet's still functioning then?" Prowl gave him a cross look and laid his fins back. Helios laughed outright. "I'll never understand what you see in that old rust heap. He annoys you more often than not." But Prowl still had some form of affection for the Autobot CMO. Why and how would most likely never be explained, but, for him, Helios didn't harass the Ahnkmorian as much as he could.

Prowl snorted and whipped his head around to snap his sharp teeth at Red Alert. His jaws were powerful enough to crush a leg strut and tear out a mech's throat but Red Alert growled at him and snapped his teeth back before muscling him out of the way. Helios watched them with a smile on his face. Prowl only moved because he wanted to. The mech was heavy as a mountain and just as stubborn. Prowl didn't give all of his ground and Red Alert had to lean somewhat over his shoulder to speak. "First Aid is waiting to hear from you when you're ready," he said softly.

Helios' smile turned into a soft laugh. "Be nice to your brother," he chided when Red Alert swatted Prowl's wing out of his face.

"He started it," came Red Alert's sharp retort. Prowl extended his wing and almost knocked him over. It lifted something off of him every time he watched them play. His spark didn't pulse as painfully in his chest. His beautiful, deadly, little mechs. There was no hope for them, for him, for any of them right now. But they could change that, they _would_ change that. They would change everything. They'd do it for every lost pack, every lost voice, every broken mech and femme like Tracks and Bandit.

"And he'll finish it too if you get him going." Helios said not giving voice to his thoughts. The words echoed a memory of a city glittering in the sun, of the roar of water battering at the sea wall, and a tall mech scarred by hard living with a short unlit smoke stick in his mouth watching three sparklings gallop surefooted on the rocks.

A smile, so rare these orns, lifted the corner of Red Alert's mouth. If he had the same memory he didn't mention it. The memory stayed close enough Helios could smell the salt tang of the air. He didn't push it away, it was a good memory. It was a memory of sunlight and laughter of the way things should be.

Helios cut the connection and sat back with a sigh and closed his optics. The memory of the mech and the water began to fade. He let it. If he tried to hold on to it he'd remember the pain. Better just this snapshot of a moment instead of the entire memory thread. Now he wished he would have asked Red Alert if he remembered, too. If he remembered running across the rocks that day chasing after Prowl as the water sloshed over them threatening to drag them out to the deep sea. He missed his mechlings. Not just the grown mechs they'd become, but the little hellions they'd once been. Sadness overtook the smile that might have touched his face. He missed a lot of mechs, but most of them would be out of reach until his spark went dark.

Turning his thoughts away from Red Alert and Prowl before the dark memories could drag themselves out he considered their next target. Things hadn't gone precisely to plan on OC 482-D, but when had plans ever happened as intended. The result was still what they needed. The new leader of OC 482-D was street true. His sire was one of the few who had clawed his way up from the streets. He hadn't forgotten his roots either; Drama had just as many ties to the streets as his sire. Not that polite society knew that. That was okay, that was what they needed. They needed mechs like Drama who could walk and talk like high class and get the revolution back on track.

Opening his optics he tossed the high grade back and stood up. "Next?" he asked Freakshow.

The dark blue mech, sparked and raised on the filthy streets of Gen'vie, looked back at him with optics glittering like an angry wild animal. Like a lion that had been too long in a cage poked and spit on. "I think it's time to get a little personal."

**oOo**

**A/N:** Thank you for R/R/F/F!


	10. Chapter 10

"Inferno, the more you fidget the longer this takes," Ratchet scolded when the wires connecting Inferno to the firewall update patch were jostled. The load bar slowed to a crawl. The big mech sighed and stilled. He was one of the biggest mechs on board but when Ratchet had met him decacycles ago his firewalls were delicate as Vosian blown glass. He was better now, but compared to others his firewalls were little better than a youngling's.

"Ratchet?" First Aid asked looking up from his datpad. Not one of Ratchet's, but he had seen just enough text to figure out it was a medical dictionary of some kind. Ratchet tilted his head to show he was listening but kept his focus and optics on Inferno. His firewalls were slow to adapt, one of the reasons they were so fragile. If he uploaded the patch too fast there'd be chaos in Inferno's systems. "How do you safeguard against contagions…when the scouts are always…coming and going?"

"Quarantine for the most part," Ratchet answered, giving Inferno a hard look when he perked up. The mech stilled but seemed interested in Ratchet's answer. "The time depends on the system they've been to but they have a minimum stay of three orns. If the system is unknown, minimum two septorns with medical observation. Same for systems with history of epidemics or biowarfare contagions."

Inferno frowned. "That's a long time."

"If a contagion gets loose on this ship, Inferno, you'll be one of the first to die," Ratchet reminded him. The big mech sighed and looked at his feet.

"That's not that long," First Aid said with a frown in his voice. "Even with supervision and scans…there are contagions that can stay dormant…for kels."

Ratchet nodded. "It's not the best, but we can't keep scouts sequestered in quarantine, they'd be out in the field again before the period ended. Red Alert keeps track of their movements for another septorn so if they do start to develop symptoms we can easily quarantine everyone they've had contact with." The upload beeped when it was finished and Inferno was up and out of the med bay as soon as the wires were disconnected. "Your biggest patients will always be your biggest sparklings," Ratchet grumbled. First Aid giggled. The med bay lapsed into meditative silence, First Aid returning to his reading and Ratchet preparing for his next patient.

Half a joor later, the distinctive drone of a certain Praxian's voice grew in the hallway. Ratchet sighed but didn't stop the mech from bouncing in to the med bay and straight over to First Aid. He'd thought Bluestreak would exhaust First Aid, but the little mech hardly left a breath for First Aid to squeeze in a thought. The end result was a deluge of words from Bluestreak with mostly nonverbal cues from First Aid. It wasn't tiring, it kept him still, and better yet, Bluestreak got to talk to his friend as much as he wanted. Or as much as Ratchet could tolerate.

"Standing outside isn't going to get those bandages off, Rivet" Ratchet yelled over the buzz of Bluestreak's voice. A few seconds later a tall femme with a heavily bandaged arm walked in. Ratchet lowered the berth some so she wouldn't have to climb. With an intense look of concentration on her face she slowly lifted her bandaged arm and held it trembling just above her thigh. Ratchet held her wrist in a soft but firm grip and started unwinding the bandages. The sutures were neat but the scars were puckered and ugly. She still had the arm though so Ratchet ignored the cosmetic side of things. Having got it caught in a machine in the engine room three kels prior he'd thought she was dead when he arrived. But her stubborn spark was still pulsing and after thirty-six joors in surgery he'd gotten her arm reattached. She still had vorns of physical therapy ahead of her, and she'd never have full range of motion again, but she was a tough femme who wasn't about to walk away from the challenge.

He asked her primarily about pain and how she thought her progress in physical therapy was even though he had Hoist's notes. He also asked about how her social life was, made certain she was still actively in contact and hanging out with friends. "We can't do our drinking nights like we used to," she said in a voice used to speaking over the sound of engines. "So we're doin' like younglings and having game nights." Her husky laugh filled the room. Ratchet listened with a faint smile on his face as she told him a, probably exaggerated, story from their last game night that ended with someone getting mad and challenging her to arm wrestling.

After she left and Ratchet started cleaning the bandages off the table First Aid's quiet voice rose above Bluestreak's. "Ratchet?" He turned to the juvenile with a raised optic ridge. "Do you know everyone's name?"

"Of course, that's part of the job."

**oOo**

As soon as Ratchet went into the office Bluestreak leaned close. "Hey, I'm going to watch a holovid tonight with the Twins and we're going to have a lot of fun and snacks so do you wanna come?" he asked hopefully in one breath.

First Aid slumped a little in his berth. "I'm still not supposed to move yet, Ratchet said my frame will overheat," he said between short breaths. Bluestreak's face fell too. He was so animated even his wings drooped low to the ground and his whole frame slumped like parts of his struts had been removed. "We'll do another night," he promised. He didn't like Bluestreak upset.

The small mech perked up again and nodded but the air of disappointment clung to him. "I'll bring you some snacks," he promised. "Do you want your other datpad?" he asked, wings rising to their usual position.

First Aid yawned and shook his head. "No thanks, I'm still cross-referencing the diseases…I didn't know from Ratchet's notes. I can't believe they don't teach these things…anymore."

"Like what?" Bluestreak asked with genuine interest. Unlike most non-medical mechs, Bluestreak was just as curious about odd diseases and viruses as First Aid. He sorely missed sharing a room with the talkative Praxian. He loved Helios dearly and Ratchet surprised him by thoroughly answering all of his questions, but Bluestreak had a fresh point of view on things. His mind wasn't cluttered by Academy lecturers or textpads.

Before First Aid could muster the breath and strength to explain what he found Ratchet came out of the office. "All right, Bluestreak, you can visit later. First Aid's audios need rest for a joor or two." Bluestreak sighed but told First Aid he'd be by later with the snacks and fired off half a dozen questions to Ratchet in rapid succession about something Blaster had told him.

Rubbing an optic ridge Ratchet checked First Aid over and double checked his monitors before answering one of the questions which spawned more words. First Aid was always surprised at how patient Ratchet was with Bluestreak, the mech talked at lightspeed and never stopped, but where others became annoyed with him Ratchet seemed…resigned. Not beaten down or cowed, just at peace with the fact that Bluestreak was near him and that meant there was going to be constant noise for the foreseeable future.

Ratchet didn't leave until First Aid was done wiggling around to get comfortable and the tingle from a scan hit him once more before he shooed Bluestreak out ahead of him with a long sigh. First Aid giggled a little but it wasn't hard to let his optics slip shut and fall into recharge. His chest ached from the brief conversation he'd had with Ratchet and Bluestreak.

**oOo**

First Aid frowned at his datpad hoping Ratchet would drop by before he dozed off so he could ask him if he was looking at two different diseases or the same disease with different symptom manifestations. Listening for footsteps he looked up when a shining yellow mech stole into the room. First Aid gave him a bright smile. "Hi Sunstreaker." He and Sideswipe were in the medbay at least once a septorn with Ratchet threatening to weld their afts together while he patched them up. First Aid was certain the yellow frontliner liked him as much as he liked Bluestreak because he was one of the few that used his preferred name instead of his nickname. Sunstreaker did a quick glance around the quiet bay before coming over.

"Hey First Aid, has Hatchet lifted restrictions yet?" he asked leaning on the berth. First Aid shook his head. He wasn't as put out as frontliners were when they got stuck in a berth. He had seen the scans of his chest. It was only luck and Death being otherwise occupied that his spark hadn't gone out. If Ratchet told him he had to stay in the med bay for a vorn he'd do it without complaint.

Well, limited complaints.

"Did Bluestreak find you?" First Aid asked. Bluestreak had returned not long after First Aid woke up and tried for over a joor to find a way for him to come to the holovid. First Aid had suggested they do it in the medbay but, Bluestreak had informed him one of the perks of holo-night was the twin's high grade. Ratchet would glitch worse than Tracks if he found out that tank rot was anywhere near Bluestreak or First Aid.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics. "I heard ten breems before he got to me." First Aid giggled. "Where's the Hatchet?" he asked looking around the bay again.

"Communications," First Aid perked up a bit more. "He's going to tell Iacon to change their curriculum." He looked at Sunstreaker with wide optics. "Did you know he could do that?" As long as First Aid could remember Iacon Medical Academy had stood firmer than mountains in what they considered medical practice and teaching.

Sunstreaker laughed and pushed himself up to his full height. The sterile bright light of the med bay didn't wash out his colors like it did most others. His armor sparkled and glittered like he'd dusted himself with diamonds after he polished. "I'm pretty sure if Ratchet wanted to he'd tell Primus to make the suns rise backwards." He did another quick look. "But Iacon should keep him busy for a couple joors."

First Aid was already shaking his head. "I can't move. My frame will overheat before I make to the hall." Not to mention the welds that were the only things keeping energon from drowning his spark. And the metal still lodged in places that, while less-than-life-threatening now, wouldn't hesitate to rip him open again. "I'm fine, I'll come to another one when Ratchet lets me walk," he promised.

Sunstreaker shrugged one shoulder, "Never said you had to walk." Before First Aid could ask him what that meant the gleaming yellow mech scooped him up. First Aid squeaked in surprise but didn't tell Sunstreaker to put him down. Ruff and Tuff carried him sometimes when he fell into recharge in the rec room, but being held still surprised him. No one had really picked him up or carried him when he was little. He had decided he rather liked the feeling and wished he would have known it better when he was younger.

Sunstreaker walked into the hall where Sideswipe swiveled his head like one of Red Alert's security cameras watching both Wheeljack's lab and the hallway Ratchet would most likely come down. He also had a hand clamped over Bluestreak's mouth to keep the Praxian quiet. "About glitchin' time," he hissed. "Hey, Aid," he said without any venom. Bluestreak gave him a muffled greeting, wings fluttering with excitement.

Rolling his optics Sunstreaker said, "Mute it and take point." The red twin lifted his lip in a snarl but stalked ahead, prowling like a hunting animal. First Aid tried to keep his excitement in check so he wouldn't exhaust himself before they even arrived at the Twins' room.

Still, he was thrilled they'd found a way for him to go to the holovid without breaking too many rules. And with Bluestreak trotting down the hall with the twins he started to feel like he was part of a crew again. Bluestreak twittered with excitement and told him what a great holovid they were going to watch and Blaster might be there too and Bumblebee was definitely coming because it was also one of his favorites and Tracks would probably make an appearance if only to call them all stupid before leaving again.

First Aid had to blink a couple times to refocus on the blur of words. Sunstreaker rolled his optics up but didn't tell Bluestreak to mute it. First Aid giggled listening to Sunstreaker's strong spark pulse while Bluestreak continued to chatter. That was one of the reasons he'd decided he liked being carried. The steady pulse of a spark was better than a lullaby. It was almost hard to keep his optics open and he gave up trying to keep up with Bluestreak's conversation.

"Mute it, Blue, Hatchet incoming," Sideswipe hissed, coming at them from down the hall. He ducked into a side hall and Sunstreaker followed. Sunstreaker hid on his other side with Bluestreak skipping ahead, wings fluttering happily. First Aid watched him go, listening to his mouth still going warp speed.

"Bluestreak," Ratchet said with a mix of irritation and amusement. "Why are you walking through the halls talking to yourself?"

"Well because I didn't have anyone else to talk to but you're here now so I can talk to you right because I saw this really cool insect when I was out with Hound the other orn and I was going to tell Jazz about it but he's still gone and it was this really neat looking bug and it kind of reminded me of him because it made itself look like a flower when I got close to it and see why it reminded me of him because he's always trying to blend in with different things—"

Ratchet walked by the hall with his hand over his optics listening to Bluestreak yammer. Sideswipe had to muffle a laugh. "Primus, the glitch is a genius," he snickered. Sunstreaker too had a grin on his face. First Aid snuggled closer to his warm armor giggling.

**oOo**

Ratchet waited for Iacon to respond to the hail when the medical tag he had on First Aid chirped. Up and moving for the door without a word, he downloaded all current data and watched the tag move from the berth to the hall. An angry glower came down over his face. The little mechling was going to get a tirade the whole ship would be talking about for the next vorn.

_Sunstreaker has him._ Red Alert informed him via his comm. link. Ratchet glanced up at a camera as he passed by. First Aid's tag was moving down the hall but while his spark pulse was a little above normal his temperature remained steady. He should have been several degrees warmer with as far as he'd gone.

_He's not walking on his own._ Red Alert clarified. _Sunstreaker is carrying him._ Ratchet's walk slowed a pace. First Aid's temperature stayed steady and his spark pulse didn't increase anymore. Ratchet was moving toward the tag, they'd meet in a couple breems. Ratchet stared down the hall not seeing much of anything while he decided what to do. He could make Sunstreaker return First Aid to the med bay, at which point one of them would figure out he had a medical tag on the juvenile. If Sideswipe was involved they'd probably remove it and take him again, probably to their holo-night with their tank rot high grade and whatever other contraband they and Blaster had squirreled away. If he let First Aid go with the Twins now he at least had the tag on him and Bluestreak would be with him. Blaster had some field experience, as did the Twins. Blaster wasn't stupid, he well knew First Aid was still in the med bay for a reason, he'd keep an optic on the little mech.

He heard the drone of Bluestreak's voice and looked up to see the Praxian skipping down the hall talking about everything and anything. "Bluestreak, why are you walking through the halls talking to yourself?" First Aid and Sunstreaker were down one of the side halls. Sighing as Bluestreak hopped next to him and continued talking. He rubbed his optics and decided the juvenile could watch a holovid with his friends for a couple joors."

**oOo**

Joors later, his chest and the rest of his body was achy, but he had a smile on his face as he struggled with everything he had to stay awake in Blaster's arms. He couldn't give a summary of the holovid he'd watched, most of the entertainment had come from Tracks' acerbic commentary on the campy special effects and Bluestreak's and Bumblebee's swift defense. The Twins' high grade had made the conversations loud and nonsensical pretty quick and First Aid was still giggling. His head nodded forward again and when he finally found the strength to lift it he was back in the med bay and Blaster was setting him on his berth.

"Here's somethin' for you when, you wake up, lil' mech," Blaster said. He set a datpad within easy reach. "E'rything Red could find on Rennin." He tried to thank Blaster for the datpad but couldn't tell if the words made it out of his mouth before he slid into deep recharge.

First Aid woke up the next afternoon, still sore, but feeling better than he had in septorns. Rubbing his optics he found Ratchet meticulously cleaning and sanitizing new surgical instruments. He didn't think Ratchet knew he was awake so his low voice breaking the silence of the med bay made First Aid squeak in surprise. "Little mech, if you so much as think about leaving this med bay again before you can finish a sentence without overheating I will weld you to that berth."

First Aid knew his optics were sparkling wide and his mouth was hanging open but he couldn't stop. He couldn't remember if Ratchet had been in the med bay when Blaster brought him back. He couldn't _fathom_ Ratchet had noticed him missing and hadn't gone on a warpath to find him. But he hadn't been in the med bay when they returned, he was certain he would've been scared out of his spark to see the medic and not peacefully drifting into recharge. Maybe one of the others had let something slip during breakfast. That was the only thing he could come up with.

Ratchet glanced at him, dark blue optics unamused, as if he could hear First Aid's frantic thoughts and wanted to remind him that nothing, _nothing_, happened in his med bay without him knowing about it. First Aid clicked and then squeaked, "Yessir." Embarrassment flushed him from toes to cephalic fins and he pulled the sheet a little higher up wishing he could sink through the floor. He really didn't want Ratchet mad at him, mostly because he was scary when he was mad, but also because he'd been learning so much from Ratchet's datpads and all the questions he answered.

Lost in his spiraling thoughts he didn't realize Ratchet was near him until a rough hand with a gentle touch stroked down his cephalic fins making him jump a little. It didn't bother him and after the third or fourth stroke he sighed and let his achy body relax. He didn't think Ratchet was mad at him, annoyed and possibly irritated, but not mad like he got at the Twins and Ironhide. He was okay with that, he could handle annoyed, he just didn't want him to yell. Ratchet's yelling was scarier than anything any of the headmasters at the orphanage could pull off.

He woke up not much later, the drowsing state Ratchet lulled him into easily disturbed by the tinkling of tools being rinsed on a rack at the surgical sinks. Rubbing his optics he thought about sitting up but he was still achy from the few joors he'd spent in the Twins' room. Still trying to figure out how Ratchet knew he had been gone when he was certain now the med bay had been dark when he and Blaster returned his thoughts derailed.

Blaster had left him the information on Rennin. Looking on the berthside table he found a new datpad sitting on top of the few he'd been going through. A quiet trill of excitement escaped him and he snatched the datpad up his achy body—mostly—forgotten. Flicking the pad on a sliver of apprehension slid in, tempering his excitement as the sidebar all but disappeared on the pad. Thousands, tens of thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of names had to be filed on the datpad. He scrolled through a couple pages catching names and descriptions; some of them clearly done by a medic and others looked like they were done more by enforcers.

He scrolled back to the first page and stared at the overwhelming mass of data in his hands. He didn't know what he was looking for. He couldn't remember his own name, how could he find his creators' names. If they were even on file. Illegal immigration wasn't a new phenomenon, even with all these names his creators could have crossed into Iacon without documentation.

"What's wrong, mechling?" Ratchet asked softly, a gentle hand brushing across the top of his head once more. First Aid tilted his head into the comforting touch. "Blaster found all the stuff of Rennin," he said in a quiet voice. The few words made his chest ache and for a moment he wished he would've stayed in the med bay like Ratchet told him to. "I don't know…I don't know what or…where…I don't know," he said faltering. Ratchet picked up the datpad and scrolled through a couple pages, not seeming to be surprised by the sheer amount of data. His optics flicked back and forth and First Aid was reminded of a documentary he'd watched about the great sea eagles that lived on the Praxian coastline. Ratchet had the same optics; narrow and fierce, they didn't miss much of anything. Helios did, too. Not all the time, but when he was looking at vitals or inspecting wounds, he had the same hard lines around his optics. First Aid couldn't recall if any of his other mentors had shared the look. He didn't think they did. But maybe he wasn't eagle enough. Maybe he'd missed it. He didn't like missing things.

"Most of these are from immigration, a few medical records," Ratchet said, pulling First Aid from his thoughts. He handed the datpad back. "Most of those will be linked to a genetic sample, we can take a sample of your CNA and run it through whatever databases Blaster went through to find these names and see if we find a match."

"Blaster said Red Alert did it," First Aid said softly. A frown tugged the corner of Ratchet's mouth and confusion found its way into First Aid's already chaotic emotions. "That's not good?" he asked.

Ratchet shifted his weight so his leg was pressing against the berth and for a second First Aid felt like they were discussing an important medical matter together. "Red Alert is thorough in things like this," Ratchet said slowly. "There's a chance he got into databases he probably doesn't have legal clearance to get into, and he probably went through obituaries from every city-state and anyone who hailed from Rennin or the surrounding area was probably added." He stared at the wall, optics moving back and forth as he thought. Blinking and shaking his head after a moment he said, "We'll get to that when we come to it. For now, I can still take your CNA and start running it against the largest database he went through. If we don't get a match there we'll move on to the others."

"Really?" A tremor shook First Aid's voice, caught between fear and hope. Hope that he may yet find his creators and fear that he would once again hit a dead end. Ratchet stroked the top of his head again and First Aid leaned his head against the medic's hip. Ratchet paused for a bare second before resuming his gentling touch. "What if they're not there at all? What if they're not anywhere?" he whispered. Did it matter? Did it matter at all if he knew who they were?

No…but yes.

He wanted, needed, something, anything to let him know that once, no matter how brief, someone had wanted him.

**oOo**

**A/N:** Hello, hello! Sorry for the delay. This chapter was really hard to write for some reason. But, thank you for R/R/F/F! Always love hearing from you guys!


	11. Chapter 11

Blaster sprawled out on his back on Red Alert's berth with his head in said mech's lap. Prowl lay on the floor on his chest, his ink black wings melding with the shadows under the berths, crimson optics on the small datpad in Red Alert's hand. He looked like a pit spawn, something crawling up from the very bowels of the Unmaker's lair to come and make chaos. The thought lifted a corner of Blaster's mouth in snide grin.

"Diamond Fire," Helios' soft voice said from the datpad. On the screen his optic ridge raised and Blaster snorted.

"He'll be a spark diamond 'fore this vorn's over," he said, his lip raising again in a snarling smile that Steeljaw and Lockjaw mimicked. Lockjaw's crystalline optics flashed in the semi-darkness of the room. The faint pulses of pain he always picked up from her sharpened for a second and he tensed against it. The shockwaves echoing through his spark, radiating out to the broken edges like snaps of electricity made him flinch and drop the smile. Red Alert's hand smoothed over his chest, an absent motion but Red Alert also reached for him through their bond soothing over the pain as best he could. Helios gave him a sharp look through the screen, his presence in Blaster's spark not as strong with as far as they were from each other, but he could feel the medic plucking their bond trying to figure out what had caused the pain. "Nothin' new, Helios," Blaster said with his feral smile back in place. "An' you were tellin' us about Dyin' ina Fire or whatever his name is."

Prowl snorted, from the background of the screen Jupiter laughed. Amusement lit Helios' optics. "Prime's third cousin on his Sire's side. Very popular with the high class."

"So I've heard," Blaster said, rubbing between Lockjaw's shoulder blades. The small lioness hopped onto his chest and curled up over his spark, a rumbling purr soothing more of the pain. "Most'a high class thinks he'll be a fine, shiny new Prime after this lil' war is over."

Helios rolled his optics but nodded. "He's kept himself on the straight and narrow pretty well, but," Helios' golden optics reflected the light and while his smile was serene there was venom in his words. "Everyone has their vices."

"What are his?" Red Alert asked looking down at Blaster. The constant flash of blue and white lightning made him look like some ancient storm god staring down from the dark ceiling. "Likes his high grade, like any good Elite. Likes fraggin', too." Blaster stretched a bit more and fit his head in a familiar and comfortable position against Red Alert's hip. Lockjaw cracked one optic open when he shifted but didn't move from her warm place. "But he's already got a bondmate, so that's all hush-hush."

Helios snorted. "Of course, wouldn't want anyone to think poorly of him, now would we." He sat up straighter, calculation keeping his optics cold instead of their familiar liquid warmth. "Poison would be easiest, but," he sighed.

"Obvious," Prowl said from the floor. Never seeming to pay attention to anything, but always focused on everything. Crimson optics rose higher as Prowl sat back on his haunches, wings spread to help him balance. "Kill the bondmate."

Red Alert and Helios both canted their heads to the side and Blaster stared at the ceiling thinking it over. He hadn't focused much on the bondmate, stupid really, he should've. He'd fix that soon enough. "Got a thing for herbal teas," he said in the contemplative silence. That was a thread he'd followed because it was such a fraggin' useless pastime he had to know more. "Fancies herself an herbalist, grows her own plants and makes tea from 'em. I think she sells it?" he said. "I've gotta look again."

"Plants can be dangerous things," Helios said softly, his voice like a knife being unsheathed. Blaster glanced at Prowl. He'd have the best idea of what they could use. In the darkness it was hard to see him tilting his head back and forth as he thought, mostly it was the odd motion of his optics shifting that gave away the gesture.

He climbed up on the berth behind Red Alert and put his head on the red mech's shoulder. Red Alert rested his horned head against Prowl's and closed his optics for a moment. "Raggon weed," he said at last, his low voice like a rumble. "It's sweet. A little makes it easier to recharge. Too much…" Blaster felt the breeze from his wings when he shrugged.

Helios smiled again. "We'll start looking. If she doesn't already have it, how do we introduce it?"

Before any could answer, an emergency signal came in from Trailbreaker who was on communications. "Hold that thought," Blaster said, sitting up. "Breaker, Breaker?" he chirped.

"Gettin' an SOS from a nearby base," Trailbreaker said, voice tense. "They've picked up a dozen hostile ships closing fast. They're outgunned and outnumbered." He relayed the information almost in tandem with Trailbreaker's words.

"Ah well, another time. Be careful, Loves," Helios said and the screen went dark. Lockjaw hopped off Blaster's chest and trotted to the door with Steeljaw next to her. Without the light from the datpad Prowl was only a pair of crimson optics in the dark and even Blaster thought it was creepy. The door slid open and hallway light spilled in not doing much to alleviate the darkness of Prowl's frame. He was darkness incarnate. A creature from the pit, a spawn of the Unmaker, and as soon as this fight was over chaos would once again be unleashed.

Blaster grinned and followed him into the hall.

**oOo**

**A/N:** I really love writing these particular incarnations of Prowl, Red Alert, and Blaster. Thank you for R/R/F/F!


	12. Chapter 12

First Aid curled on his berth quiet, trying not to be afraid as the ship medics and ground medics raced back and forth. The ship rumbled with weapons discharge and from retaliating blasts. A shiver of fear worked through him. The sounds weren't as loud as they'd been on the _Prowler_ but the _Ark_ was much, much bigger. Still, his chest remembered too well the sound of the weapons, yells, and shouts. The klaxons that almost deafened him. He shivered again and swallowed hard. He could feel his spark racing and knew his temperature had to be too high but as hard as he was trying it wasn't enough. He was scared.

Ratchet appeared next to him, out of the chaos like a wraith. "You'll be fine here, First Aid," he said. A gentle hand stroked the top of his head like it had dozens of times before. It helped, having him close. He was certain nothing would hurt him as long as Ratchet was next to him. Not even the Unmaker himself would risk his aft by making the medic angry. "You'll be fine," Ratchet repeated. "None of the ships in orbit have the firepower to get through the _Ark_ like they did the _Prowler_." First Aid knew all of that, but it helped to hear Ratchet say it. He could believe it then. Ratchet wouldn't lie to him to make him feel better. If he wasn't safe right where he was, then Ratchet would move him. With a final caress, Ratchet plunged back into the chaos.

**oOo**

"You need field or bay medics?" Ratchet asked, long strides easily keeping up with the battered base medic. Soot darkened his armor and scores from shrapnel left rivets of dried energon on his face and across his chest and shoulders.

"Bay," he said, voice a little hoarse from yelling. "We've got a door medic already, I need more hands in surgery. You've got an apprentice?"

Ratchet nodded. "Never seen battle, not sure how much use he'll be," he replied as honestly as he could. The soldiers on the field didn't need egos, they needed care. But he couldn't bring himself to outright admit Windfall couldn't be in the med bay doing procedures. He could help fetching equipment, washing tools, fetching patches and IVs.

The base medic sighed and nodded, weariness cracking through his façade for a brief moment. "Not the time to test him," he said. "Think he'll handle being with the door medic? Marigold can't be leaving ever two breems to get more patches."

Windfall jogged up to them at that moment, concern on his face as he fell into step with them. "Hoist told me some of what's happening," he said, a little out of breath from his run. "Where do you want me?"

Ratchet was glad to see the depressive funk that had settled over the juvenile had receded. Perhaps after the battle things would get better. Windfall looked a little frightened, but determined. "You'll be running supplies for the door medic," the base medic said. "We have the supplies, just not the bodies to get them where they're needed."

Windfall's nod was curt. "Do you have a base map so I can find where I'm going?" The base medic handed him a chip with a map in it and the constriction around Ratchet's spark lessoned even more. Maybe he should've been putting the mech under more pressure. He certainly sounded like he knew what he was doing now. The uncertain mech that had been plodding into the med bay the last few septorns was nowhere to be seen. He still looked afraid, but any mech that wasn't terrified out of their spark during their first battle was glitched.

"Hoist and Grapple are on their way to assist with patching. Wheeljack will be with me in surgery." Ratchet glanced out the passing window as a shell shrieked down and slammed into the ground sending up geysers of molten rock and metal. Windfall jumped and glanced at Ratchet, fear making him look younger than he was. "You won't be out there," Ratchet said gently. Windfall nodded a little hesitantly but kept looking out the window as tracer rounds streaked through the sky. More shells kamikazied the ground, one or two hit the _Ark_'s shields and the ship shuddered but they didn't break through.

**oOo**

It was eerie being alone in the med bay. He could hear shells and feel the ship's weapons discharging, but hidden away in the med bay it was still calm. Chaos raged all around him, but in the semi-darkness of the med bay everything was quiet and orderly like it had always been. First Aid shivered under his sheet, optics staring wide at the door. The shriek of shells and the shuddering _boom_ as they hit ship and ground made his intakes stutter. He wanted someone, anyone, to sit with him. He didn't like being alone in the dark like this.

A particularly loud assault had him pulling the covers up over his head and his optics squeezed shut. And then there was more sound, closer sound, familiar sound. He lifted his head a little, one optic watching the door as Hoist and Grapple flew into the med bay snapping lights and equipment on. Unfamiliar frontliners carried in mechs too injured to walk on their own. First Aid had never known Hoist to be particularly loud, but now his voice rose over the din of battle and the sharp cries of pain as he directed injured to berths. First Aid sat up more, still in his out of the way corner as more came in. He didn't hear Ratchet or see Wheeljack. The battle didn't sound like it was even close to being over. He was guessing the base med bay was full; the _Ark_ was taking in the overflow. He didn't know what that meant for the battle. More and more mechs and femmes were brought in as Hoist and Grapple patched and welded at incredible speed. Some of the lesser injured frontliners stuck around long enough to do a few simple field patches and then they were hustling out again, checking blaster charges and unsheathing swords and knives.

Hoist and Grapple barked orders just like Ratchet as they somehow organized the chaos around them, simultaneously patching and triaging. First Aid swallowed hard and slid out of his berth when another deluge of injured were brought in. The med bay was quickly running out of berths. He didn't need to be in the bay, he still had the code to Bluestreak's room and it wasn't that far. He could walk there.

He stumbled into the hall and flinched back in surprise. Lined down the hall were wounded, some with painful gouges and heavy dents, others bleeding and offline. He froze, the smell of energon and hot metal washing over him making his tanks churn. He had thought Hoist and Grapple were dealing with the lesser injuries, but if this was lesser, he didn't want to know what Ratchet was working on. The overpowering smell of spilled energon and internals made his head swim and he had to brace against the wall for a moment. Breathing hard through his mouth, the stench coated his glossa like paint. The noise; gasping breaths, moans of pain, and screams of agony vibrated against his audios.

Pain.

They were all in so much pain.

He could fix that.

He could help.

He still had access to the _Ark_'s medical tags, Red Alert and Ratchet seemingly having no reason to remove him from the network. Taking his short gasping breaths his hand fumbled in one of his compartments for the wrench Helios had given him and found the closest level two tag.

He made it to the mech, one he hadn't really met or talked to while aboard the massive warship. According to his tag, he should have had serious injury, but he was sitting with a fractured leg. Painful and not something to brush off, but with the other injuries in the hall and med bay it was negligible. He would live to see the end of battle. First Aid frowned and did a thorough scan of his internals but didn't find any bleeding. He changed the mech's tag to a one.

Still, First Aid was there and he was in pain. "Here," he said between breaths. "Do you have two holsters?" By his scans it was a clean enough break, it just needed stabilizing and a good deal of rest. Taking the two holsters from him and the mech next to him with a sparking chest he made a loose splint using the hard backs and held them together with a piece of scrap. The mech winced and was breathing harder than First Aid by the time he was done but he let his head fall back with a quiet breath that sounded like relief.

He could do this. He had helped this mech, he could help another.

Moving to the mech with the sparking chest, flagged as a lesser injury at a level one, he froze. The sparking he assumed was from surface damaged circuits came from deep inside his chest. Energon filled the wound, his vitals were dipping into critical levels as energon loss and shock wore on his systems. First Aid's hands trembled. His ragged breaths came faster making his chest ache. He didn't have any idea where to start on the mech's injuries. He didn't have a welder to stop the bleeding. He didn't have Ratchet's authorization to access systems to shut down and divert power from lesser to major networks.

The mech's optics dimmed a shade and First Aid's frozen, shaking hands finally moved. He pulled off the mech's armor to get to the wound. Reaching in he used his fingers to clamp the hemorrhaging line. His instructors at Iacon would glitch if they knew what he was doing. A frontliner stepped past him carrying an unconscious mech. "Hey," First Aid said, his voice breaking a little on the word. "I need sterile fabric." The frontliner gave him a curt nod.

By the time he changed the mech's tag to a three with priority the frontliner returned and handed him an entire roll. Tearing a few pieces off he wrapped the line as tight as he could and then staggered to his feet.

"This isn't right," he gasped looking around the hall. A femme bleeding on the floor from a gut shot was tagged as a two, another mech who looked like he'd taken a hard hit to the head didn't have a tag at all. "This isn't right," he said again. Clenching his wrench with energon coated fingers he started changing the tags as fast as he could. He dropped to his knees next to the femme. Her vitals were close to redlining, energon loss critical. How long had she been bleeding in the hall? Tying off the bleeding lines like he'd done for the other mech he tagged her as a priority too.

One of the mech's next to her had a dislocated shoulder and a deep laceration on his arm. His body felt too small next to the frontliner, like it wasn't strong enough to wrench the joint back into place. Shock made the mech's limbs tremble and pain made his breaths short and ragged. His own breaths short and ragged, he got to his feet. "Can you lean forward?" he asked. If he pushed against the wall he might have enough force to roll the joint back in. The mech's response was sluggish but he nodded and leaned forward. Getting his hands in position he leaned all of his weight on the mech and pushed off the wall as best he could. With a thick pop and a loud curse from the mech, the joint slid back into place. Tearing off more fabric he wrapped the laceration on the mech's arm tightly.

Ignoring his screaming chest, First Aid lunged to his feet and staggered down the hall his systems warning him about overheating. Gasping and coughing and feeling like his internals were on fire he changed tags as he stumbled past them, fixing what he could. Every mech and femme he passed was tagged at either a one or two. He passed four more that should have been three with priority. A mech holding part of his internals in was tagged a one. A femme with massive internal bleeding didn't have a tag at all.

There were a hundred mechs and femmes in the hall and more coming in and he couldn't take three steps without collapsing to his knees trying to breathe. He felt a breeze from the open door and the heavy stench of energon, internals, and hot metal was cleared for a brief moment. Something was wrong. He had to get outside. More mechs were being brought in. A deep neck wound was tagged at a two. First Aid changed it to a three and did his best to stop the bleeding. Even with a welder he didn't know where to start on a wound like that.

He didn't know how many he got through. He knew it wasn't enough or very many when he reached the door. Outside shells shrieked, an explosion of molten dirt geysered in the air. Heavy fog from pulverized rock, ash, and weapons discharge filled the air. The _Ark_'s weapons fired filling the air with a static prickly feeling before fat red streaks arced across the battlefield. From the mist more mechs were being brought to the ship. He could see the faint outline of the base through the fog.

Something was wrong at the base. Most of the injuries in the hall should be under Ratchet's care. Whoever was triaging didn't know Ratchet wasn't on the ship. It was the only explanation he could think of. The base medics and Ratchet must have worked out their own triage system and the medic was sending injuries he knew Ratchet could fix to the _Ark_. He didn't know if Grapple and Hoist could save the ones he'd tagged a three.

Door medic. He had to find the door medic and let them know.

Heaving himself through the doors he was momentarily blinded by the _Ark_'s shields deflecting an energy beam. The warm breeze whisked away the tank churning stench of spilled fluids and energon and hot metal and burned circuits. A shell slammed into the _Ark_ and First Aid fell back with a short scream. The _Ark_'s shields shimmered but held. Dragging himself to his feet he stared across the field at the faint outline of the base. The mechs and femmes in the hallway would die without surgery. Some of them might already be past saving. Until the door medic knew Ratchet wasn't onboard, he'd keep sending them. Gripping the wrench Helios had given him he plunged into the chaos.

His body screamed at him, the fog choking his limited breath as he fought to keep moving. Staccato small arms fire filled the pauses between the _Ark_'s massive weapons discharging. Mortars continued to pummel the ship's shields. Closer to the base he could see part of the wall smoking and collapsed where a shell had found its mark. He dropped to his knees gasping. Blaster fire tore up the turf behind him and he yelped, the sudden surge of panic driving him to his feet. He ran for only a few steps before collapsing again. His intakes couldn't cool him.

He was so hot.

So tired.

But the mechs and femmes needed him. The door medic needed to know Ratchet wasn't aboard the _Ark_. He had to fix this. Once it was fixed he'd go back and recharge. Once he had everything fixed. Digging his fingers into the grass he forced his shaking body upright. Stumbling, weaving, like he'd gotten into the Twins' high grade the imposing structure of the base finally became clear. A shell shrieked down and blasted a watchtower to pieces. First Aid huddled close to the wall, unable to run from the debris. Red hot shrapnel rained down, hissing where it buried itself in the ground. More smoke filled the air and he forced himself to move as he coughed and tried to breathe. He was so close.

He came around the doorframe and almost collapsed. "First Aid? What are you doing here?" Windfall asked. His voice sounded off, too high. First Aid lifted his optics and then his head. Windfall stood in the protected alcove of the base door, optics almost white with fear, and all alone.

"Where…door?" First Aid gasped. He staggered into the alcove with Windfall as more small arms fire peppered the ground. He didn't feel any safer in the shadows. Windfall flinched back.

"Door? Door medic?" Windfall's laugh was a little hysterical. "She _left_. She left me. So I'm the door medic. I'm the fragging door medic." First Aid stared at him. It was the door medic's job to triage as soldiers came off the field, and, if it was bad enough, decide who they might save and who they would have to let go. Door medics were _not_ apprentices. But he didn't see any other senior medics and he couldn't very well call Grapple or Hoist to help him.

"Tags," First Aid said trying to get his heaving breaths under control. "The tags are backwards." He sank down against the wall, his body felt feverish.

Windfall blinked and he shook his head hard. "No. No they're not. Ratchet gets threes Hoist and Grapple get ones and twos. That's what she told me before she left. That's what I've been doing." So he'd been wrong. It wasn't that the door medic didn't know where Ratchet was, it was that he didn't know which way the scale went.

First Aid shook his head. "Threes are _critical_ ones and twos are minor and serious. You do it backwards," he gasped. "You're sending mechs to Hoist and Grapple to die while Ratchet sets fractures."

Windfall's optics flashed bright white. "No, no. One is critical, _three_ is minor." A panicky look overtook his face. "_One_ is critical," he said louder. "_One_ is _critical_!"

First Aid threw a clod of soil at him since he couldn't raise his voice. "Why would you send critical patients to Hoist and Grapple and have Ratchet set fractures," he snapped. Pushing himself to his feet as Windfall stood statue still, optics still flashing glitchy white. Apologizing profusely to all his instructors at Iacon he reached up to the back of Windfall's head and sent a short hard pulse of electricity to his spinal relay. The bigger mech collapsed in a heap. First Aid winced. That was something he'd figured out his first vorn at Iacon. They'd almost flunked him out for it and told him to never _ever_ do it again.

He didn't have time to feel guilty over it when a transport pulled up with wounded and dying. The Twins jumped off the transport each carrying an unconscious mech, he scanned all four mechs, the two unconscious were threes with massive internal bleeding. Sunstreaker gave him a weird look. "Threes," he said breathing hard. "You…you're hurt," he said picking up on some deep wounds hiding beneath the veneer of energon they were covered in. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker blinked and looked down before shrugging and walking into the base with the unconscious mechs.

He stopped recognizing faces. All he saw were the injuries his scans picked up on. His body screamed at him, his chest sending shoots of pain through him as painful as shrapnel itself. He was hot, his exoform bleeding heat into the warm smoky day. His tanks rolled as the more horrifying injuries passed by; missing limbs and near evisceration, cut throats, and hemorrhaging spark chambers.

It wasn't until he'd had three ones in a row he realized all the mechs coming toward him were walking on their own, holding weapons on their shoulders, bleeding and busted, but conscious and cocky. The Twins he tagged at a level two because their energon loss was obvious. They would be in system shock soon enough once their battle protocols went dormant. The others limped or walked with a friend's assistance but they didn't seem to mind as they shouted at each other, winning smiles on their faces.

"First Aid," Red Alert appeared next to him, he wasn't entirely sure how, but it was hard to think now.

He was so hot.

And it was so hard to breathe

No one needed him anymore. He had fixed it. He had everything fixed and now he could recharge. He felt like he was burning. Red Alert picked him up and his head rolled back on his neck and he couldn't' get it to roll forward again. He finally fell into darkness.

**oOo**

Injuries poured in. Even with the _Ark_'s assistance it wasn't going to be easy. Ratchet kept an optic on the organized chaos around him. It was a tenuous hold on order when the bodies came in this fast. One mech out of sync and the whole thing would go to pit. The head base medic kept his people sharp though. Wheeljack handed him tools before Ratchet asked for them. It always felt like an assembly line, a conveyor belt, when he was in the surgery suite. As soon as one was stable another one was in front of him fighting for their spark.

The noise around him faded to background. All that mattered was the patient in front of him. Hemorrhaging lines, ruptured internals, burned circuits were all he saw and all he thought about. The sparks more important than faces he didn't bother trying to know them. He just had to keep their sparks from turning to dull diamonds.

The blast knocked him off his feet. Smoke filled the med bay, fire alarms shrieked and overhead sprinklers activated. Ratchet blinked, the word a hazy mess of colors. He had a patient. Dragging himself to his feet his left leg buckled and he fell back to the floor with a sharp curse. Shaking his head to clear more of the haze he became acutely aware of the burning pain in his leg. Energon ran like water over his leg where a deep ragged slice tore through the thick alloy of his thigh. Cursing again he took two deep breaths and pulled out a couple of patches and his welder. Snapping his teeth together he patched the wound with an angry sound of pain.

Dragging himself to his feet he didn't bother coddling his leg. His patient was flatlined. Plunging his hands back into her internals he dove back into his work trying to find the embers in her dying spark.

**oOo**

Ratchet staggered, breathing hard. His leg buckled again and he dropped to his knee, one hand clamped on a berth to keep him from falling on his face. Energon pulsed from between the hasty welds and ran hot and cold down his thigh. He dragged himself up sucking in a sharp breath when the pain speckled his vision with spots of white. He couldn't rest yet. He still had patients. Once they were taken care of then he would rest. Once everything was fixed.

They were down two more medics from the blast. Another critical came through the doors screaming. The mechs carrying him had their hands pressed on his abdomen where energon poured from a deep sword wound. Snarling a curse at his leg, Ratchet pulled out his welder and got back to work.

**oOo**

He stumbled and not being near enough anything to catch himself he fell to both knees with a paint peeling curse. Exhaustion dogged him. He was so tired. So achy. And so, so very tired. He tried to get up again but his wounded leg only gave a sharp throb of pain that felt like it went straight through the strut. Squeezing his optics shut for a second he marshaled his strength. The fight was over and the injuries trickling in now were hardly life threatening, but still painful and in need of treatment.

Getting his good leg under him he bullied his body upright, his wounded leg shrieked with every pulse of his spark. The pain made his tank roil with nausea but he still had patients. Once everything was fixed he would rest and take care of his leg. Once everything was fixed, then he would rest.

Wheeljack caught him before he could hit the floor after setting a fractured leg. Ratchet tried to keep his legs under him so he didn't send them both falling. "Ratchet?" Wheeljack whispered, alarmed.

"I'm fine," Ratchet said, but he still wasn't standing on his own; almost all of his weight being held by Wheeljack. The foot of his injured leg just barely touched the floor but that touch alone made the entire leg feel weak again. He still had three frontliners to look at and the Twins hadn't made their grand entrance. He knew they were hurt. They just took the pain and energon loss better than others.

Wheeljack's grip shifted and the engineer hissed when he saw the seeping wound. "Ratchet, you glitch." He dragged him over to a berth and forced him onto it. Ratchet wanted to get up, wave it off like he had when he was a young adult. He'd pulled an entire shift with a piece of shrapnel in his leg once. This slice shouldn't have slowed him down, it shouldn't even have registered. "Primus frag me," Wheeljack said in something closer to a normal voice. His hand was rough from work with heavy tools, but the touch was gentle. Ratchet still flinched, the exoform around the wound hot and over sensitive. "And of course you fraggin' weld it yourself, Primus be a glitch, Ratchet do you even think? Why the frag didn't you tell me?"

Ratchet kept his head back as Wheeljack started carefully prying up the welds so he could redo them. Still angry with himself for succumbing to pain his voice was sharper than he wanted. "It's nothing, 'Jack. I've done more with less." He still had things to do. He needed to check the other three and figure out where the Twins were hiding.

Wheeljack's glower matched Ratchet's tone. "No matter what you want to think, Ratchet, you're not a young adult any-fraggin'-more. You _know_ you can't take the abuse you did back in the day, you fragging know it and you still try. I swear to Primus one of these orns we're going to get your thick head scanned because some orns I'm certain you're glitched." He worked the last weld loose and a starburst of pain made Ratchet's entire body jerk and he cursed again.

The trembling started in his leg but soon spread to his entire body. Hot energon hit his too hot exoform and felt cold and the pain made it so hard to breathe. Wheeljack said something but he couldn't make out the words. His spark thudded in his audios and another flare of pain hit him. Dragging his leg out of Wheeljack's grip he clamped a shaking hand over it. Gentle fingers on his head, stroking his cheek, and then over his hand. Ratchet made another agonized sound. "Ratchet," Wheeljack said softly. "Let me help you, Ratchet. Let me help." Ratchet swallowed hard, the ceiling fading in and out of focus. He was so tired. Wheeljack was right. He wasn't a young adult anymore. His body couldn't take the punishment like it used to.

The ceiling blurred. He still had patients. He tried to get his optics to train on one of the overhead lights but it was like trying to catch a cloud. His optics slid to the side, and closed in a slow blink. And the pain in his leg was finally starting to recede. It was harder for him to stay awake without the pain. He turned his head and it felt like he was trying to lift a frontliner. He found Wheeljack focused on the deep cut on his leg. "Seda…tive?" Ratchet couldn't remember what he was talking about. It was so hard to focus and he was so very tired.

Wheeljack stroked his cheek again. "Just recharge for a joor or two, Ratch. It'll be okay, everyone will be fine." His head rolled back and he fell into darkness.

**oOo**

First Aid woke up painful, but it no longer felt like he was burning alive. His uncoordinated hand smacked him in the face when he tried to rub his optic. "First Aid?" Wheeljack asked softly. He lifted his head as much as he could to find the Kalisian. All around him the wounded recharged peacefully. He was back on a berth, near the office this time instead of in the corner. He blinked twice when he saw Ratchet laid out on a berth near him. He had a patch over part of his thigh. If not for the slow rise and fall of his chest First Aid would have thought he was dead. He'd never seen the medic so still before. It didn't feel right, especially with the med bay full.

Wheeljack's warm hand stroked the top of his head and he relaxed against the berth once more with a wheezing sigh. "Easy now, easy." He felt the tickle of scanners passing over him. "The battle's over," Wheeljack murmured. First Aid snuggled a bit more into his berth. He still ached everywhere. His chest felt too tight and the longer he kept his optics open the more his head hurt.

"I get everyone?" First Aid slurred. He knew he had missed something. He had to have tagged someone wrong. Apprentices weren't door medics. Door medics were like Ratchet, experienced and tough who knew what they were doing and how to do it quickly. They had eagle optics that didn't miss anything.

"You did a fine job," Wheeljack said with warmth in every quiet word. First Aid felt like it was easier to breathe after hearing that. "You did very well, First Aid, recharge a little longer." The gentle hand stroking the top of his head didn't stop and he drifted back into recharge.

The next time he woke up it was with someone growling near him. Cracking one bleary optic open he found Ratchet no longer strangely still, but awake and irritated. He blinked and turned his head more so he could watch and listen to the medic staring down Wheeljack. "You put another sedative in me, 'Jack, and I'll put you down for a septorn."

"Ratchet, that wound goes all the way to the strut," Wheeljack snapped, his fins dark purple. "If putting a sedative in you is what'll keep you down a joor so you can _heal_ then I'll fraggin' well do it!" Ratchet's cephalic fins rose and First Aid blinked even more awake. He'd never seen Ratchet do a full threat display; usually his scary yelling was enough. Wheeljack's cephalic fins rose, too still pulsing the dark purple color. The bioluminescent lines along his shoulders also lit up with the color. "Test me, Ratchet," the engineer hissed. First Aid had never seen Wheeljack angry and decided it was just as frightening as Ratchet's anger.

"I have patients," Ratchet snarled back.

"You have three assistant medics who are perfectly capable of taking care of the patients, you control glitch!"

Hoist swept past First Aid, so silent he was little more than a wraith. While Ratchet hissed and snarled at Wheeljack he jabbed a needle into his arm and jumped back before Ratchet could swat him. Dark optics bordering on red with rage he snarled at Hoist. Wheeljack pushed him down and cupped his cheek. "Hush," he murmured, all signs of anger gone. Ratchet snarled at him and tried to push his hand off but it looked like he was moving underwater. "Hush, Ratch. Don't fight me anymore, please." Ratchet sucked in a deep breath, First Aid could only imagine how many different ways he was trying to get his systems to override the sedatives. He knew a few, but with as long as Ratchet had been practicing he had to know every backdoor and trick in the book. Still. His head fell back and his breathing started to slow. "Rest for me?" Wheeljack murmured. "I promise, everyone will be fine. Just rest." He pressed a kiss to Ratchet's forehead as the medic slumped fully into forced recharge.

"He's gonna be really mad next time he wakes up," Hoist deadpanned.

Wheeljack looked a little concerned when he nodded. "How much of that stuff do we have left?"

"Not enough. He knows how to adapt his systems. This is the only one we haven't used on him. All the others just make him a little loopy for a half joor and then he's right back at it." Hoist and Wheeljack watched Ratchet recharge and at the same time rubbed their optics like they were getting a processor ache.

"He might actually turn us inside out," Wheeljack sighed.

"Think he'll be kind and give us a sedative before he does?"

First Aid giggled and snuggled into his berth more. He watched Ratchet recharge as his own optics grew heavy. He decided that the eagle optics he saw on both Helios and Ratchet was something he had to learn. In recharge, Ratchet didn't have them. His face was relaxed and didn't look as old, the lines not carved as deep when he was awake and glaring at everyone. But was he glaring or scanning? First Aid's thoughts started to tangle as he fell into dreams with eagles and bleeding wounds.

**oOo**

First Aid jerked awake and his body immediately told him what a terrible idea that was. He groaned softly and rubbed his optics. Dreams of falling eagles and mechs with slashed necks still tugged at the edge of his consciousness. He wasn't ready to slip back into nightmares. The med bay was quiet and dim. He didn't hear anyone up and about. He glanced at Ratchet's berth and found the medic in the same place and position he'd been in.

Slowly forcing himself into a sitting position he surveyed the rows of orderly berths full of sleeping mechs. He squinted trying to see if he recognized any of them from the hallway. But none of the peaceful faces near him looked familiar. Sliding his sheet back he gingerly put his feet on the floor and winced. Everything felt like it had been stretched and pulled a hundred different ways. But, though his legs shook a little, they held him. He kept his hand on his berth for good measure until he was certain he wouldn't be pitched on his face.

He limped over to Ratchet, a little fearful at first, but the medic didn't stir even when First Aid put his hand on the berth. Ratchet's intakes stayed slow and even. No eagle lines wrinkled around his optics although the faint lines were there showing how often he made them.

He left the med bay, the cool air of the empty halls wrapping around him. He shivered but his chest ached and knew soon enough his frame would be too hot. That was okay. He wasn't going far. He stared at the floor where there'd been so much energon and internal fluid he didn't think it would ever be clean again. The tiles gleamed in the low lights, like nothing had ever coated their surface. It was disconcerting. It almost felt like the battle had been a bad dream, something his mind concocted after too many joors reading medical texts.

He made it to the hangar and stood in the doorway not brave enough to walk in. Rows and rows of burial pods filled the space. The silence accused him. Some of them were his fault. He knew it. He'd missed something, tagged someone wrong, hadn't gotten to them fast enough. Fluid filled his optics making the orderly rows warp and twist. How many had he gotten wrong? He hadn't recognized the faces in the med bay; he wondered how many he would recognize in here. He sucked in a short breath and could still taste the cloying stench of hot internals and energon, of metal and burned circuits.

"First Aid?" Ratchet's tired soft voice came from behind him but he didn't turn around. He curled closer to himself. Ratchet's warm frame stopped behind him and an arm circled him, pulling him close to the older medic. First Aid sniffled again, difficult with how much his chest was hurting.

"I did something wrong," First Aid whimpered. The silence in the hangar was the worst. It seemed not even the noise from the engines could permeate the heavy quiet that surrounded each still capsule. It had been so loud in the hallway, he'd hoped it would be quiet and now…it was so quiet.

Ratchet moved and added his other arm to the embrace careful not to put pressure on his chest. First Aid turned a little into him, his head just high enough he could hear the faint thrum of Ratchet's spark if he pressed his audio against his chest. "First Aid, you can't save everyone." His gentle voice didn't disrupt the silence. It didn't rumble or echo in his frame like Ruff's or Tuff's voices. It was soft, like a heavy blanket being pulled up to keep out a chill. "Even if you do everything right you'll still lose some. We all do." A gentle hand stroked the back of his head and down his back. First Aid's breath caught again and the fluid in his optics dripped down his face to splash on Ratchet's armor. He pressed closer to Ratchet, hoping to hide from the quiet, from the orderly rows of burial pods.

Ratchet stroked his head until First Aid's wheezing sobs quieted to raspy hiccups. "Does it always have to hurt?" First Aid whispered, shivering. His body hurt, his spark hurt. Everything…it all hurt and it was too much. He kept his cheek pressed against Ratchet's chest listening to the steady pulse of his spark.

Ratchet was quiet for a long breem, still gently stroking his head and back. "Yes," he said at last, voice quieter than before. "If you can do nothing else for them, you can mourn them." First Aid blinked a few lingering tears loose. He would do better; he would do everything he could to get eagle optics like Ratchet and Helios. There wouldn't be so many ever again. He would do better. The silence felt less accusing; now it was just…quiet. He sniffled again and let his optics close, his sore chest worse now from his crying. He felt too warm again and Ratchet's spark was still steady in his audio.

**oOo**

"They're gone," Grapple said as soon as Wheeljack walked into the med bay and Primus-too-early in the morning. Wheeljack blinked and tilted his head to the side as if he'd misheard. "They're gone. Ratchet and First Aid. They're not here. I didn't hear them leave, I have no idea where they are." The words were a rush that took Wheeljack a breem to sort out.

When he did he cursed a streak to make Ratchet proud and spun around to begin his search. He went to the hangar first, the quiet rows of dead made his spark kick but he swallowed and walked in. He walked up and down the rows but didn't see Ratchet passed out anywhere. It was a slim chance to begin with. The battle had been bad, but Ratchet didn't sleep with the dead unless things were _really_ bad. He let out a relieved sigh when he didn't find him. With a med bay full of patients he didn't need Ratchet sinking into one of his depressive episodes.

Ratchet had to know by now they were looking for him. He wasn't getting far, no matter what he thought. His leg would put him on the floor soon enough. Wheeljack prowled down the hall thinking. He'd just come from his quarters, Hoist was still recharging in his and Grapple's. He wasn't in the office or the back room where the spare bunk was because that's where Grapple had been. He stopped in front of Ratchet's door and shrugged. It wouldn't kill him to look and Ratchet might have left a clue.

Punching in the code the door swished open. Walking in he did a quick once over and froze. There, passed out on his berth like a normal mech, was Ratchet. He blinked. That had to be a new record for the absolute fastest he'd ever tracked the cranky bastard down. Ratchet didn't stir. His intakes stayed slow and even and his face wasn't contorted with pain or fever. He was just…recharging. Recharging like he was supposed to be. Curled tight against him with Ratchet's arm around him was First Aid. The small apprentice had his head pressed against Ratchet's chest and he looked peaceful. Wheeljack did a very subtle scan on both of them—if Ratchet felt anything more intrusive he'd be awake—and then slowly backed out of the room.

He returned to the med bay still trying to get his head around it but not wanting to question it too thoroughly. Wheeljack didn't care where Ratchet recharged, as long as he did so and kept weight off his leg so it could fragging well heal.

"Blaster said he can send Steeljaw down to help as soon as his shift's up," Grapple said, a cranky glower on his face.

"Uh, no need," Wheeljack said with a smile. "He's recharging in his quarters with First Aid." Grapple blinked and shot a look at the hall and then back to Wheeljack. Wheeljack nodded. "And so help me, if anyone wakes him up his temper is the last thing they'll be concerned with."

**oOo**

**A/N:** Oh my! Looks like only two chapters left! Not sure what trouble I'll get into after this is finished.

*shifty eyes*

Thank you for R/R/F/F!


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Warning for suicide theme.

Ratchet hesitated for a few seconds outside the door. His leg sent a fierce bolt of pain all the way down to his toes reminding him he didn't have the luxury of dawdling. Wheeljack would glitch himself offline if he knew Ratchet wasn't convalescing on a berth as he had been the last two orns, courtesy of sedatives and painkillers. His systems sent him a notice that his self-repair system was trying to come online. He overrode the notice and put everything back in standby. This wasn't a conversation that could keep. It was like an infection. The longer it went without being said the worse it would get until he'd have to dig the words out. He sent a ping to Windfall and stared down the hall instead of at the door. Quiet for the moment, in half a joor the day and night shifts would switch and even down the medical and science halls there would be noise.

Most of the noise would come from Wheeljack screeching his name like an overcharged predacon. Ratchet's leg weakened and he had to catch himself on the doorframe. If he fell to his knees he knew not even his stubborn streak would be able to get him up again. His self-repair tried to online and again he wrote an override.

The door finally opened and Windfall stood back in the shadows of his dark room, optics on the floor. He didn't say anything and despite his big frame he seemed smaller than a sparkling. The brash and confident youth that had greeted Ratchet kels earlier was gone. Probably gone forever. Taking a steadying breath Ratchet said, "Windfall. We need to talk."

The juvenile flinched when Ratchet said his name and didn't answer. He shrank even further in on himself. Flexing his leg a little before he took a step Ratchet clamped his teeth together to hold back the curse waiting on the tip of his glossa. Windfall retreated with each step Ratchet took. Keeping his back to the wall in case he had to lean against it Ratchet did a quick scan of the juvenile and frowned, worry digging into his processor. "When did you last eat, Windfall?"

The juvenile shook his head a tiny bit. "It doesn't matter," he said softly, listlessly. Ratchet did another scan of him, a thorough one and Windfall flinched back, hugging himself. "It doesn't matter," he repeated a little louder.

Putting his worry in a chokehold Ratchet said, "It does matter. Wheeljack and Hoist need help—"

"I'm not a medic!" Windfall suddenly shouted. Centicycles of being on the field with artillery kept Ratchet from wheeling back from the sudden explosive sound. His leg snarled at him when his weight shifted and he did his best to take all of his weight off it. Windfall finally looked up, optics too bright and a little unfocused. "I'm not a medic, I can't do anything! I can't do anything right. Just…too stupid. Too stupid," his voice started to trail off again and his optics dimmed to navy blue.

Ratchet's worry morphed into alarm. "Windfall—"

"No!" he shouted again, his whole frame trembling. "You know it's true! You _know_ I'm too stupid, too stupid. I can't even remember a fragging _triage_!" His intakes stuttered and he hugged himself again with a quiet whimper.

Wheeljack pinged him. He ignored it and tested his leg. It numbed almost as soon as he shifted his weight. He had to get Windfall to come to him somehow. "Everyone makes mistakes, Windfall. Come here, come with me. You need to eat something." He kept his voice soft even as Wheeljack pinged him again and his angry yell carried down the hall.

Windfall's intakes caught and he gave his head a violent shake. Ratchet tried again to take a step and the resulting bolt of pain made his vision fuzzy for a few seconds. "Windfall, come over here. We'll get something to eat and we'll talk about it. You made a mistake."

"_A_ mistake?" Windfall said, an edge of hysteria in his voice. "_A_ _mistake_? Do you have any idea how many mechs I killed? _Do you have any idea?_" The ragged edges of his shriek tore into Ratchet's audios. Not giving ground to the terrible sound Ratchet took a steadying breath and blinked twice to clear his vision. He hadn't realized he was shifting his weight until his leg let him know with a sharp stab of pain.

"Windfall," Ratchet said keeping his voice calm even as he became aware of Wheeljack coming to a sliding stop in the doorway. "You're not thinking clearly right now. When's the last time you recharged?"

"It doesn't matter," the juvenile yelled, either not seeing Wheeljack or ignoring him. "What does it matter if I recharge or eat? It doesn't make any difference." He pressed his hands against his temples as if he was trying to keep out any other words Ratchet might speak.

Not taking his optics off Windfall, Ratchet said in a low fierce voice, "I can't move. Get him." Wheeljack slipped past him and approached Windfall the same way he might a wounded animal. A violent sob shook Windfall's frame. He recoiled when Wheeljack's fingers brushed his arm but the engineer followed through with the touch and wrapped long fingers around Windfall's arm. Another hard sob took all of the fight out of Windfall. They were almost the same size, but Wheeljack wrapped his arms around Windfall the same way he would a frightened youngling.

It didn't take long for Windfall to fall into exhausted recharge. Wheeljack's scans caused minor interference with Ratchet's as they both continuously looked over the juvenile. Face troubled even in recharge, Windfall's head rested on Wheeljack's shoulder. "Get him to the bay," Ratchet said with a long sigh. His leg sent a lance of pain through him sharp enough to make his tanks turn. Leaning back against the wall he let out a breath and shuttered his optics focusing on his breaths and not the incessant throb coming from his thigh. Self-repair notified him again it was coming online and he ruthlessly shut it down.

Wheeljack didn't argue and he brushed by a few seconds later with Windfall cradled in his arms. Ratchet stayed against the wall for a breem before Hoist's familiar soft footsteps were in the doorway. "Why the frag are you on your feet?" he asked, exhaustion in every syllable. Ratchet rolled his head forward and pushed away from the wall keeping almost all of his weight on his good leg. Hoist slid under his arm. "I should haul you up and take you back to the med bay trussed up like a glitchin' game animal," he growled. Ratchet was too tired to snap back at him. Now that he was moving it felt like someone had a torch held against his leg.

His pride wouldn't let him sigh in relief when he was back on his berth but he stopped clenching his jaw so tight. He surveyed the berths, most of their occupants were still in recharge but a few were somewhat awake watching him. Wheeljack's curses probably having woken them initially. "Down," Hoist ordered with a bite to his words only his most difficult patients heard. Ratchet being chief among them.

"Where is Windfall," he asked instead of doing as Hoist asked. Hoist crossed his arms and glared at him. Not something he usually pulled, but Ratchet's silence in the hall left him bold. He pointed to the head of the berth in silent command.

Digging deep, Ratchet found the eternal flame of his ire and glared right back at his secondary medic. He saw the shift in Hoist's glare when he realized Ratchet was ready and willing to fight every little thing until things were done his way. Baring his teeth in an angry snarl Hoist dropped his arms. "Wheeljack took him to the back office," he said irritably.

"Good. He's now on suicide watch. I want joorly checks and he doesn't go anywhere alone until he has a session with Kup for further evaluation. How long exactly has he been locked in his room alone?" Ratchet finally sat back and lay down on the berth. Hoist stared at him, frame not moving but optics blinking rapidly. Then, like he'd been struck, he recoiled.

"I don't…I don't know. With everything else, you bein' hurt. I didn't even think. I didn't think about it." He stepped back and pressed his palms against his optics and let out a gusty sigh. "Frag me. I'll tell Kup. We'll take care of him." Ratchet made a noncommittal sound and Hoist flinched again.

**oOo**

"Y'know, Hatchet, you might _threaten_ to weld us to berths, but I think Wheeljack actually _might_ with you," Blaster said without turning around. He'd let his leg rest a full orn before he'd forced himself up. His self-repair was more insistent and it wouldn't be long before he would no longer be able to override it. He needed to make sure Windfall would be taken care of before his body dragged him under.

"I need Iacon Medical Academy," Ratchet said, in neither the mood nor the mindset to banter with Blaster. The painkiller he'd taken would only last so long and then there would be Pit and Primus to pay. Blaster finally looked at him, he studied his face for a long few seconds and then shrugged.

"I'll get you through, but you have to promise to call me when Wheeljack ties you up and locks you in one of the containment rooms," he said with a toothy smile on his face as he started encrypting the call. Ratchet flicked the back of his head and sat down heavily next to him hoping he'd be able to get up. Wheeljack pinged him.

"Primus be a creator-fraggin' glitch," he hissed. Blaster laughed and leaned back in his chair while he waited for Iacon to respond. Ratchet glared at him. "Did you tell that son of an aft where I am?"

Blaster laughed and shook his head. "_I_ didn't. But that didn't take long. I think he's got a tag on ya'," Blaster said holding out his hand for Rewind to land on. The tiny hawk-like symbiont nodded in agreement.

"Disabled it," Ratchet said and growled when Wheeljack pinged him again. Blaster laughed louder and Rewind played a soundbyte of applause. "I'm so glad you approve," Ratchet said dryly. The entire crew was thoroughly enjoying his injury. It wasn't often the battle of wills between Ratchet and Wheeljack was public spectacle. He knew Smokescreen had at least three bets riding on how long Ratchet could evade Wheeljack before the engineer concocted something to keep him tied down. Ratchet's CMO override code could disable everything Wheeljack threw at him though, so unless the inventor had something special tucked away in his lab they would continue their cybercat and glitchmouse game.

Blaster scooted out of frame when the Iacon Medical Academy accepted the transmission. Steeling himself for what was certain to be a painful and somewhat awkward conversation he forced his back to straighten. The current Headmaster appeared on the screen. "Ratchet," she greeted neutrally. "We didn't expect to hear from you again so soon. We are still reviewing your _suggestion_ to reinstate mass contagion in the curriculum." Ratchet was used to dealing with difficult mechs and femmes, in fact, he welcomed the challenge, but the Headmaster was an unholy combination of difficult and stupid. And while Ratchet had that opinion of several mechs, this particular opinion was shared by many other frontline medics.

"I'm certain you are," Ratchet said, doing his best to ignore Blaster who always took great pleasure from these rare calls. "My reason for this call is my apprentice, Windfall." The Headmaster's cool optics narrowed a little. "In our last engagement he made a series of errors that cost multiple frontliners their lives," he said softly. The Headmaster's optic ridges shot up and her head tilted back a little as if Ratchet had shouted the words. Keeping his voice soft, Ratchet said, "He's not cut out for the field, Headmaster. He knows the material, but implementing it in a real life scenario with outside stress and pressures is where he falls apart."

"He's one of the top in his class," she said not believing it. Ratchet kept himself from growling and settled with a noncommittal sound a little too irritated to be neutral. The Headmaster was quiet for a long moment. Then she sighed heavily and nodded. "He'll be reevaluated once he returns to Iacon," she said sharply with a hard look that fell short of being intimidating. She'd never had to test her mettle against an angry, pained, thrashing frontliner. She relied on her position to make her threats viable. Ratchet was too old and had seen too much to be cowed. "As per protocol," she prefaced, "you may give your recommendations for him." That sounded like it had taken something out of her to say. "They'll be _considered_ in the event he is proven to be unfit for the field."

"General Practice, secondary medic," Ratchet answered. "Find him a small quiet clinic somewhere where he'll have the time to learn at his pace. No surgery and at this point, I don't think he's ready to train for even a lead medic position. But, of course, I leave that evaluation for you," he added a touch petulantly.

The Headmaster glared at him. "When can we expect him?"

Ratchet rubbed his optic ridge and silenced another ping from Wheeljack. "He'll depart in a septorn." Kup was worried enough about the juvenile he advised the medical staff keep someone with him at all times. A long voyage through space with nothing but his own thoughts was not good for anyone. But Primus curse and bless him, Prowl had found a merchant vessel returning to Homeworld that was willing to pick the juvenile up. It wasn't ideal. But Hoist had doubled down on his efforts to take care of Windfall since his initial oversight and reassured Ratchet the shipboard medic was aware Windfall's mental state.

He signed off and Blaster spun in his chair giggling. The sound was a little demented given what Ratchet knew about the mech but he rolled his optics instead of shuddering. "Primus, she cannot stand you." Still laughing he stopped spinning and gave Ratchet a feral smile. "Red says Wheeljack's closin' fast if you wanna run." Ratchet sighed and sat back to wait. Blaster stuck his glossa out at him. "You're not fun, Ratchet. Oh hey, speakin' of Red. What'd Aid find in all that Rennin slag?"

Ratchet blinked and swore softly. "I don't know. I took a CNA sample before we rerouted. I haven't checked the results yet." He glanced at the door and then at Blaster. "How close is the glitch?" Blaster's cold blue optics lit with mischief.

**oOo**

Ratchet set the datpad next to First Aid without waking the small juvenile. His breathing was raspy and shallow like it had been right after he'd been taken off the sedatives. Sighing Ratchet stroked a gentle hand down the back of his head. He dragged in a deeper breath and coughed a little before settling deeper into recharge.

"Primus give me the strength not to throttle you," Wheeljack hissed, grabbing Ratchet and pulling him off balance fast enough he had no choice but to lean on the engineer. Ratchet didn't fight, the painkiller was wearing off and it felt like Steeljaw was tearing at his leg. Putting him back on his berth Wheeljack stepped back, bioluminescent lines glowing steady red. "You so much as think about getting up from that berth and I'll have Red Alert disable your motor relays," he snapped. Ratchet growled at him but didn't push. Blaster was right. He may threaten such things, but Wheeljack would follow through.

Allowing himself to relax a little at a time he winced as his leg unclenched and the pain really started in on him. His self-repair refused to accept his initial override and he had to use another. "Windfall?" he asked staring at the ceiling and trying not to flinch as vicious stabs of pain ran up and down his leg. Wheeljack made an irritated sound and took Ratchet's wrist. There was a small prick and the odd cool feeling of painkillers racing into his energon stream.

"He's with Kup right now," Wheeljack said his rough hand cupping Ratchet's cheek. Ratchet turned his head into the touch to look at the engineer. A gentle thumb stroked his jaw line. His vision lost focus for a second until he blinked. It stayed focused for only a second and then he was seeing double again. His self-repair seized on the moment and fully initiated. He tried to put in another override but he couldn't focus.

"The frag did you put in me?" he growled. He wanted to sit up but his head was heavy and his arms felt limp and useless. He growled again when Wheeljack pressed a soft kiss to his head.

"Recharge, just for a little while," he murmured. The words sounded distorted and Ratchet's optics fell shut without his wanting them to. He tried to open them but Wheeljack's soft voice was still murmuring in his audio and his leg didn't hurt anymore. Self-repair put him in recharge and began to work in earnest on his leg.

Listening to Ratchet's spark pulse slow to its recharging rate Wheeljack continued speaking to him in the same soft voice. He pressed a kiss to his head and didn't move for a few breems. Flattening his hand against Ratchet's chest he felt the gentle thrum of his spark and let the clenched cables in his neck relax a little at a time.

It was rare he ever had to feel the panic he put Ratchet through whenever something didn't go right in the lab. Guilt threaded through his spark. He didn't know how Ratchet could stand it. Much less how he could always let him go back into the lab once the welds were healed. "'Jack," Hoist said. He lifted his head and took his hand off Ratchet's chest. "Stay with him," the green mech said softly. "He stays with you most nights when you get slagged up." Wheeljack blinked in surprise. Hoist shrugged. "Once you start coming out of it he gets back to everything else he has to do." Hoist gave him a wry smile. "Besides, that might be the only way we keep him on that berth for more than a joor."

**oOo**

First Aid coughed himself awake and a whimper escaped him before he could stop it. Gentle hands smoothed down the top of his head and down his neck. "First Aid," Hoist's warm voice murmured. "You're all right. Relax little mech." First Aid opened his optics and took in the blurry outline of Hoist in front of him. His chest hurt so much he whimpered again. "I know mechling. I know." He blinked a couple times and tried to scoot closer to Hoist when he shivered. Another blanket covered him and his chills subsided. "Recharge a bit longer, mechling. Your chest will feel better soon." Hoist's soft words lulled him back into dreams.

Clawing himself awake from dreams of corpses and plasfire on his chest First Aid woke with a soft sound of pain and exertion. Rubbing his optics in the semi-dark room he tried to remember where he was. It didn't look like the dorms at Iacon or the dorms at the crowded orphan house. He took a breath and pain brought the memories tumbling out. Shivering in the cool room he whimpered softly. Phantoms from dreams crowded around him, dead mechs with missing limbs and heads. His optics roved around the room until he found Ratchet recharging on his berth. Curled up next to him, Wheeljack recharged as well with a hand on Ratchet's chest and his head on the medic's shoulder.

Shivering he pulled his blankets closer and stared at the shadows until they began to morph into lumbering nightmares. The med bay was quiet, like it had been during the battle. No distant sounds of small arms fire or shells echoed through the room, but the unnerving silence remained.

He didn't want to be alone.

He shivered again and it made his chest hurt. Clutching his blankets he slowly sat up and looked around the room. His chest hurt and he was so tired. But there in the shadows, monsters began to form. Squeezing his optics shut he tried to find something else to think about. Instead, his processor spit out tank churning memories of slit throats, evisceration, decapitation, and broken bleeding frames. Breaths already short, they came faster and he slid off his berth.

Ratchet was only a few steps away but even that was enough to tire him. The old medic didn't move when First Aid whispered his name. The irrational fear of something hiding under the berth waiting to grab his feet had him wavering between limping back to his own berth to hide under the covers or just climbing up with Ratchet.

"First Aid?" Ratchet's voice was rough with recharge and it almost scared First Aid offline. Whimpering he looked at the medic, trying to cool himself and breathe. "What are you doing up?" The sharp lines around his optics deepened and the tickle of scanners passed over his frame. Frowning, he glanced at Wheeljack before carefully extracting himself from the engineer. Wheeljack mumbled something and Ratchet kept a hand on the back of his neck while his attention returned to First Aid.

"I-I had nightmares," he whispered. He felt too hot and his chest hurt and he was tired but terrified of the gruesome images lingering behind his closed optics. Ratchet sighed but it wasn't exasperated like First Aid thought it would be, instead it was full of understanding. Sitting up all the way, Ratchet slowly swung his feet off the berth. "I got scared." First Aid said in a small voice. He'd talked himself out of plenty of nightmares when he was little, but those had been pretend monsters. The things plaguing his dreams now were real. His tanks turned and he whimpered, shivering despite his frame steadily getting warmer.

"I know, mechling. I know." Ratchet slid off the berth and winced when his leg touched the floor. But after he had his balance he nodded back to First Aid's berth. "Go slow, you've stressed those welds enough." First Aid started walking and to his surprise and relief Ratchet stayed next to him. Wheeljack muttered something in his recharge but no exclamation followed so he hadn't woken. First Aid climbed onto his berth again and Ratchet pulled the covers up. His body tingled when Ratchet hit him with a high powered invasive scan.

"Can you stay with me?" First Aid asked, his voice a tiny squeak in the quiet med bay. He was scared Ratchet would laugh at him but the old medic didn't give any other outward reaction than a nod and a glance back at Wheeljack. He settled on the berth next to First Aid with a relieved sigh when he was no longer on his feet. First Aid pressed his audio against his chest. Ratchet's spark was strong and steady and First Aid convinced his optics to close. In the darkness the terrible pictures couldn't find a hold. The strong pulse of Ratchet's spark scattered them before they could fully form. Snuggling close with a raspy sigh he let himself relax into dreams.

Wheeljack jerked awake without knowing why until he flexed his hand. The hand that had been on Ratchet's chest. The hand that was now on a cold empty berth. His chronometer told him it was just past first shift. Growling a curse that had a nearby frontliner crack an optic open in surprise, Wheeljack jumped off the berth and went to round up Hoist and Grapple for the umpteenth time.

"First Aid," Grapple said before Wheeljack could start his tirade. Confusion derailed all other thoughts and he stared at Grapple trying to figure out what the mech's glitch was. Grapple saw his face and pointed to the door. "He's with First Aid. Saw him on my rounds this morning. My guess is the little mech had a nightmare." The fury subsided and Wheeljack walked back out into the med bay proper optics finding First Aid's berth easily.

Curled against his chest First Aid was sound in recharge, his raspy breaths slow and even. Ratchet had his back to the wall and a protective arm around the small mechling. Ratchet opened one tired optic when Wheeljack ran a scan on him. Walking silently across the floor Wheeljack brushed his knuckles down Ratchet's face. "Ratchet," he whispered so as not to wake First Aid. "Please. Please stay here for the orn." He was out of threats and Ratchet's systems were adapting to the different combinations of sedatives and painkillers at increasing speed. Pressing his forehead against Ratchet's he let his body slump a little. Ratchet's rough hand stroked his cheek.

"I will," he answered in a soft voice. Those two words sounded like they took all the energy out of him. Wheeljack lifted his tired optics to meet Ratchet's. They were dark, much darker than their normal color and trying hard to focus. Wheeljack sent out a silent prayer of thanks that Ratchet's self-repair systems had finally gotten to the point he could no longer override them.

Ratchet tilted his head a little and brushed his lips against Wheeljack's cheek. Most mechs didn't think Ratchet knew the word "affectionate" but there were precious rare moments he let that side of him show. "Take care of Windfall," he murmured as self-repair started to drag him under. Wheeljack nodded and returned his kiss, pressing it to his temple. For the first time in orns Ratchet let his optics slip shut as he drifted into a more natural recharge and not a drug induced one. First Aid sighed and snuggled closer to him, small cephalic fins lifting and settling as he dreamed.

**oOo**

First Aid woke up warm and without nightmares pressing against his mind. A dull ache permeated his entire body but it was uniform enough if he tried he could forget about it. Pressing closer to the source of the warmth while he yawned he cracked one optic open. The room was blurry until he blinked. Still quiet, he could hear Hoist talking to someone in the back but the rest of the med bay was mostly quiet with recharging mechs.

The warmth against his back moved and he slowly turned his body to see what he was laying against. He was met with a blurry gunmetal grey wall, his optics needing coaxing to adjust to the nearness. Blinking the image clear he finally sorted that he was staring at a torso. Lifting his head and stifling another yawn he found Ratchet still recharging. Abruptly he remembered his nightmare and acting like a sparkling. He cringed but pressed his audio against Ratchet's chest listening to the soft sound of his intakes and spark.

He tried valiantly to push himself back into recharge by thinking of the long droning lectures at Iacon or the particularly dry textpads he'd had to read. His mind wasn't fooled though. His body may well be content to recharge but his mind was starting to stretch awake and nothing was stopping it.

He tried to keep his fidgeting to a minimum remembering how quickly Ratchet had woken the night before. To occupy himself he used his apprentice code to access the _Ark_'s medical statuses. He found Bluestreak first and let out a quiet breath when the sniper's status was still on active roster. He didn't know how often snipers were injured in battle but it looked like for this one Bluestreak hadn't even gotten scratched.

Next he found Bumblebee who was on light duty healing from shrapnel gauging his leg. Of the scouts it looked like he'd gotten off the lightest. Trailbreaker had a twisted knee joint and lacerations on his back from the same explosion that had caught Bumblebee. His forcefield was probably the only reason the two were still alive. Hound was in the bay in induced stasis.

The Twins were restricted to quarters. He winced reading over the report. Sunstreaker had a crushed shoulder joint and Sideswipe had just been released from the med bay with a fractured pelvis. Both had dozens of lacerations. They were scheduled in for a check-up in two orns and he set a reminder so he could be awake to see them.

Glancing up at Ratchet he snuck a quick peek at his file and shivered a little reading Hoist's preliminary report. A shell struck the base and killed two medics. Ratchet had a laceration on his leg that went to the strut. Wishing he could wiggle a bit more to see how the wound was healing he backed out of Ratchet's file with another glance at the mech. His spark pulse stayed steady and slow.

After a second's hesitation he checked Windfall's file. Not sure what he was expecting to find his intakes stuttered when the priority tag lit up the file /_Suicide Watch/_. It was signed by Ratchet and Kup, the somewhat cranky psychologist First Aid hadn't really spoken to. There was a log of his ration intake as well as recharge cycles. Hoist noted on all he hadn't done any willingly. Ratchet had an additional note that he was scheduled to return to Iacon in three orns. Misery and guilt welled up in his spark.

He had been so mean to Windfall and the mech clearly wasn't all right. He hadn't been all right during the battle either. First Aid remembered the glitchy white of his optics, how high and frightened his voice had been. Pressing closer to Ratchet trying to get away from the guilt he made a soft miserable sound. He should have been nicer. They were both apprentices, just because Windfall was bigger than him didn't mean he knew more. He shouldn't have treated him like that.

"First Aid, what are you doing in the database?" Ratchet's voice was low and rough with recharge but First Aid still jumped. He ducked his head as embarrassment heated his face. It wasn't that he wasn't allowed to be in the database, he just felt like he'd been caught with his hand in the energon goodie jar. He was hoping Ratchet hadn't noticed he'd browsed his file. His face heated just thinking about it.

"I wanted to make sure Bluesteak was okay. And the Twins," he answered softly. Ratchet still had his optics closed when First Aid looked up and his spark pulsed hadn't changed at all. For a second First Aid considered he might have hallucinated the voice but Ratchet nodded slightly when First Aid mentioned the Twins. He didn't look mad though. "Is…is Windfall…will he be okay?" First Aid asked softly. "I didn't hurt him, did I?"

Ratchet's optics finally opened but were so dark there wasn't much of a difference in color. The steady dimming and slight brightening indicated his self-repair systems were monopolizing his body's resources. "What the future will bring…that's up to him," Ratchet said after a heavy moment of silence. First Aid was amazed he got those words out. When his self-repair systems were engaged he was comatose. "He'll have to find a way to forgive himself and then choose if he's going to move on." Ratchet shifted his leg and winced a little. "Where he's at right now, that's not your fault." First Aid nodded hesitantly.

First Aid thought back to what he had said and flinched again. "I wasn't very nice to him," he said softly. "I yelled at him and then I shocked him." He didn't think Ratchet would hear him, or if he did, he wouldn't be able to respond. Ratchet's arm around his waist shifted when he used his other hand to stroke the top of his head. First Aid made a soft sound and let his optics droop a little. Ratchet's spark pulse was still steady in his audio and while his chest still hurt a little it wasn't the pain it had been.

"There's no time for being nice when sparks are on the line," Ratchet said sounding more like himself. "And what shock?" he asked curiously. First Aid was certain he was looking through Windfall's file even if he couldn't actively see it. The slow dimming and brightening of his optics ended and First Aid blinked at him. Given Ratchet's previous exhaustion he didn't think self-repair had finished but that Ratchet knew how to override it. That was incredible. He had no idea it could be done. From what he'd been taught once self-repair systems activated they didn't go dormant until they finished.

But his awe was short lived because Ratchet was coming back to himself and he wanted to know what First Aid had done to Windfall. First Aid hunkered down, pulling his fins flat against his head. "I gave him a little shock to disrupt his neural network and send him into forced recharge," he said in as much of a rush as his chest would allow. Ratchet's spark was still strong against his audio.

Ratchet was quiet for so long First aid dared to hope he'd been mistaken and Ratchet hadn't overridden his self-repair. "How did you figure that out?" he asked in a voice stuck between exhaustion and disbelief. First Aid kept his chin tucked against his chest still radiating shame. His instructors had been furious when he used the technique with a simulated combative patient. They'd flunked him in that class and threatened to eject him. "Well, I…you see…during lecture when we were learning…see, I figured, there's that cluster of relays at the base of the head, and one orn I figured, you know, I figured you could at least disrupt motor relays if you give it a little shock." He realized he was stammering and rambling more than Bluestreak when he had to talk to the Prime and shut his mouth with a 'click'. First Aid cringed the longer Ratchet was quiet.

"Did you test that theory before implementing the technique on Windfall?"

"Well, yes," First Aid said, a trace of indignation breaking through his embarrassment. "I did it on a simulated patient in lecture." The defiance fled as quickly as it had come. "They flunked me in the course for it. I know you're not supposed to use it, but I didn't know what else to do."

"They flunked you?" Ratchet said, his voice astonished instead of angry. First Aid chanced looking up. Ratchet's optics were still too dark but he was far more coherent than he had been. First Aid had so many questions but the stormy expression on Ratchet's face kept his glossa in check. "Idiots," Ratchet muttered. "Used it on the combative patient?" First Aid nodded slowly. Ratchet tensed and relaxed his shoulders a few times to work out the kinks. "Good. Comes in handy if you're dealing with a seizure of unknown origin as well."

First Aid blinked and stared at him. "You—You're not mad? They told me to _never_ ever do that." In front of the entire class, of course. No one had wanted to talk to him after that verbal thrashing. He'd thought getting into Iacon Medical Academy with so many others that wanted to help like him that he'd make friends. But after that incident no one wanted to be associated with him, he was on the professors' Black List. It had been lonely, but he'd found solace in the library with the medical texts and everything else that piqued his interest. He'd thought all that extra reading would just clutter his head but his forays into the art and science and literature sections helped him get his processor around abstract medical theories.

Ratchet snorted. "Frag no. You're ahead of the rest of those glitches." His optics narrowed as he thought. "That fraggin' _Headmaster_." First Aid could feel his temper winding up. "Never been in a field hospital in her glitched life, thinks these frontliners just lay still when you tell them to." The growl in his voice vibrated his chest and First Aid listened with a fair bit of confusion. He'd thought Ratchet would be angry—and he was—just not at him.

"So I didn't…I didn't hurt him?" First Aid ventured cautiously. He really did _not_ want those growly curses turned on him.

"Of course not. A small enough shock does just what you said, puts them in forced recharge. You hit them with a full charge you'll kill them, probably why the Headmaster banned it, but better you practice on a hologram instead of the real thing—" he started muttering curses at Iacon again and First Aid settled against him once more listening to the tirade. He'd thought he'd grown used to the swearing after the kels spent on the _Prowler_ but Ratchet was just as creative as Jupiter when it came to telling Headmaster where and how she could stuff her new program.

He broke off mid-swear and in a normal voice said, "You CNA results came back." He reached for the small berthside table and picked up a datpad. First Aid was afraid to breathe for a few spark pulses. "What…what does it say?" he whispered. Ratchet put enough distance between them he could hand the pad to Frist Aid.

"I don't know. That's for you to read," he said gently. First Aid took the pad with numb hands. He held it trying to breathe. Flicking the pad on he read all of the fine print and official language before scrolling to the bottom where the results were logged. "I have a match," he whispered. His hands shook a little. "I have a match." Ratchet's arm tightened around him and a gentle hand stroked the top of his head until it felt like he could breathe again. Scrolling down two more lines he found the name in bold "Falcon." No matter how much he wanted, the syllables stayed unfamiliar in his mouth and no images came from the dark of his processor. "Falcon 98% match for creator." It was hard to breathe again. He sat up. "I need to get—"

"Easy," Ratchet kept him from twisting around to reach the other datpads. "Easy." Reaching past him again he handed First Aid the other datpad. He winced and growled another curse. First Aid looked up, finding his creator a secondary concern to finding out what was wrong with Ratchet. The slow pulse of dimming and brightening returned to the old medic's optics and his body slowly relaxed against the berth again though it was apparent he was fighting every second of it. Ratchet's self-repair broke through whatever override he'd implemented and he slumped back into recharge. Running a scan over the medic he snuggled close to him again content the CMO was resting easy and went back to his search.

First Aid's fingers faintly trembled as he typed in the name from the CNA test. Even with him deep in recharge, First Aid took comfort in the warm solidity of Ratchet's frame. Curling a little more so he could press his audio against Ratchet's chest he took a slow breath and began his search.

He had a new appreciation for the sheer amount of data Red Alert had given him after a breem when the search was still running. After two breems he bit his lip, hope dying slow in his spark. After three breems he pressed his head closer to Ratchet's chest letting the sharp edges of age old pain lance his spark once more. He hadn't cried for his creators in a long time but fluid blurred his vision now. He had a name though, that was something, no matter how small. He had something.

The datpad beeped.

The sound startled him enough Ratchet's arm tightened around him but the medic didn't open his optics. Fingers shaking again First Aid lifted the datpad to see what had been found. A picture of a beautiful cream and lilac femme stared back at him. It was not with the love or laughter he had always imagined his faceless creator would look at him, but with flinty anger and a tight frown. He blinked, the reality jarring harshly against what he had expected. But no matter her expression he stared at the picture. He fancied he had her optics, even in anger they were wide and dark blue, the same shade his turned when he was upset. He didn't have her face, hers was narrower, almost seeker-like, and had a sharp pointed chin. He still had his sparkling features and that seemed to be how he would stay unless something really dramatic happened. She looked quite a bit like a falcon.

He scrolled down past the picture to learn more about her and ice washed through his lines. He was staring at an enforcer report. Suddenly the anger made sense. Taking a deep breath he pushed aside his knee-jerk reaction and continued reading. Mechs and femmes got reports filed on them for all sorts of things; public overcharge, unpaid parking fees, maybe she hadn't had the proper papers while crossing the border.

As he read the ice didn't abate but seemed to solidify until it was hard to breathe and it felt like his spark was giving its all just to keep pulsing. He set the datpad behind him and shivered. Curling himself against Ratchet he closed his optics focusing on the warmth coming from the older mech and the strong pulse of his spark.

**oOo**

A joor later he gave up trying to quiet his thoughts. Glancing around the bay he didn't see any of the medics and a little at a time wriggled loose from the secure hold Ratchet had put him in. The room felt colder without Ratchet with him but he limped for the door steadfastly ignoring the datpad on the berth.

Steeling himself for a possible scolding he poked his head into the hall. All remained quiet and he stepped out. Glancing behind him he didn't see anyone, although, with Ratchet in recharge his chances of getting away were slightly better. His chest no longer sent shooting pains through him, just a dull repetitive ache like he'd been punched in the chest a few times. Glancing up and down the hall once more he went left.

Scooting past Wheeljack's lab with a bit more haste tested his sore limbs but they held up and in a few breems he found himself back in the hangar. Empty now, First Aid still stopped on the threshold. It seemed smaller without the rows and rows of burial pods. The bright lights above gleamed on the scratched but swept floor. No energon stains betrayed where the dead had lain. Nothing in the hangar gave away the burden that had once been there.

He walked further in to where the first row of burial pods had been and stared at the floor. He had sworn an oath, not only as an apprentice to Iacon Medical Academy, but to himself that he would do no harm. That he would help alieve suffering in whatever way he could. That he would heal where others maimed. That he would find hope where there was none. He stared at the empty spot, fluid filling his optics again and a tiny whimper escaped him.

He tried to picture his creator, not as she was, but as he'd always wanted her to be. Instead, the clipped and clinical words filtered through his mind, her angry face. Everything she was a slap in the face to everything he swore to be.

And in the quiet hangar where the dead had lain he couldn't help but think he had more in common with her than he wanted to admit. He knew there was energon on his hands. Mistakes he'd made; maybe he'd not triaged someone correctly like Windfall or maybe one of his inexpert field patches had made things worse. He couldn't remember most of that orn, he'd been on the brink of self-repair stasis. He'd killed some of the mechs and femmes that had been in the hangar a short time ago. They were dead because of him.

"Ay, mechling," a quiet raspy voice called. First Aid started and turned around already knowing it wasn't a medical or science officer. Blaster leaned against the door, Steeljaw and Lockjaw sitting at his feet. His sapphire optics looked over First Aid carefully and in that moment he looked quite a bit like Freakshow.

Lockjaw loped into the hangar and brushed against First Aid's shins with a thrumming purr. She sat next to him as she had Blaster and put a paw on his knee. The depth of understanding in her cracked diamond optics made First Aid whimper and want to curl in on himself.

Blaster walked into the hangar and pulled him into a gentle hug, careful of his chest. "I promise you, mechling, they're all in a better place than us." First Aid rested his head on Blaster's shoulder and tried to let Blaster's words comfort him but it was Ratchet's words that calmed him. _You can mourn them_.

He didn't want to be comforted right now, he wanted to cry because he knew some of those pods had held others like him. Mechs and femmes that no one would cry for because no one would know they were missing. And he'd killed them.

"Helios is in range," Blaster said after a breem of quiet hiccups from First Aid. "You wanna talk to him?" First Aid nodded after a few seconds. Helios would make him feel better. Helios would understand. He could tell Helios about his creator and he would understand. First Aid nodded again more to get himself moving than Blaster needed additional reassurance.

Lockjaw stayed close to him while Blaster led him across the hangar to a smaller communications console. Steeljaw raced back to the bridge to open the hailing signal. Blaster didn't try to talk to him and First Aid was grateful the usually talkative mech didn't try to force a conversation. He was too tired to keep up with politeness. He stared at the floor under his feet and didn't look at the rest of the hangar.

Just when he was beginning to wish Ratchet was with him the screen beeped and Helios appeared. "Hello Love," Helios said softly. His optics flashed like he was running a scan, probably in reaction to First Aid's haggard appearance. "You're supposed to be on berth rest, not fighting a war," he said mildly.

First Aid looked back at the empty hangar and hunched his shoulders more. "I couldn't," he whispered, though in the open room it was as if he spoke normally. "They were in so much pain. I had to help." And he had made so many mistakes. He wished again Ratchet was with him if only to stand behind him and block the chill open space of the hangar.

A faint sad smile passed across Helios' face. "Ay Love, and that's what'll make you a damn good medic." The smile was gone almost as soon as it appeared and Helios said with more of a bite. "And where is that pit-cursed medic I trusted to keep you safe?"

"Recharging," First Aid said softly. "He was hurt," he added not really liking how Helios cocked an optic ridge.

"Shell blew in a wall," Blaster said almost carelessly. "Took a piece of shrapnel to the leg." He grinned. "Been givin' 'Jack the runaround for pit near a septorn." Helios snorted and rolled his optics like Blaster had just told him a story about a sparkling and not the Autobot CMO.

"Helios," First Aid asked softly, wanting to get the topic off Ratchet. Helios gave him his full attention, golden optics steady and serene as always. First Aid hesitated, trying to figure out how he wanted to talk about what he'd found. The words from the incarceration report flashed through his mind almost making him flinch.

"What's bothering you, Love?" Helios asked.

"I found my creator," First Aid blurted out gracelessly. Helios blinked once and interest lit his optics, a soft smile on his face. First Aid lowered his optics. "I…Helios do, I mean, you remember the oath we have to take as medics, right?" he asked lifting his optics again.

"Mostly, it's been awhile," Helios said without sarcasm. His head cocked to the side a little, keen interest and a hint of confusion in his placid gaze.

First Aid stared at the floor again. "I promised…I promised I would help, that I wouldn't hurt, but…"

Helios, misreading his hesitancy spoke into his pause. "Love, if something less than natural happened to your creator it's all right to be angry. Now, why don't we start at the beginning and work up to the unpleasantness. What was their name?" The gentle lilt of his words made it easier to talk but not to breathe. He was hoping Ratchet would notice him missing and come searching for him. Then he winced. Ratchet needed to stay off his leg. He didn't need to be wandering around the ship searching for him.

"Falcon. Her name was Falcon," he said softly. "And she was executed for treason."

**oOo**

Ratchet cycled out of recharge with an abrupt growl from his systems. Something wasn't right. Not wrong. Just not right. Thoughts sluggish from recharge and the additional pull of energy his self-repair required made it hard to pin down what exactly was not right. Something was cold or empty. His mind struggled to interpret what it was his body was telling him. _Gone_. Forcing his optics online even while his body told him it needed another few joors of recharge his thoughts finally caught up to his body. First Aid was no longer snuggled against his chest.

Elbowing himself up he forced more systems online, but kept everything running on minimum settings as a concession to his self-repair. With a deep throb his leg took his weight when he stood. Taking two deep drafts of air to wake his systems up more he limped to the office. He needed to use a remote access to get to First Aid's tag. If he brought those systems online now he'd be right back in recharge. Keying the door open he startled Wheeljack who was doing paperwork.

Wheeljack's fins flashed once in surprise and then darkened to deep purple almost immediately. "What. The _Pit_. Are You _Doing_?"

"First Aid?" Ratchet said beginning to wake up more. He looked around for the instrument he needed but it wasn't where he'd left it. Hoist or Grapple must have taken it.

Wheeljack blinked, confusion temporarily allaying anger. "He's…he should be with you?" He stood and came around the desk to look behind Ratchet at the empty room. A growl that came from low in his chest bubbled out of him and a ridge of cephalic fins rose pulsing furious red. "Primus be a cursed son-of-a-_smelter_, why can you two not just _recharge_!" Ratchet considered snapping back at him but Wheeljack's temper was a rare thing and he opted not to further the engineer's ire.

"I don't know when he left," Ratchet said instead. He'd been deep in healing recharge, nothing on his sensor logs noted the mechling leaving. "Check Bluestreak's quarters, he might've gone there. Or Twins." Rubbing a hand across his optics he tried to think, but Primus he hated self-repair. "And where the Pit is my tag scanner?" he asked.

"You leave this med bay, Ratchet—" Wheeljack started with a threatening growl to his words not answering the question.

Ratchet cut up off, "I have patients, I'm not leaving." He pushed past Wheeljack and headed into the med bay proper. "I've got a tag on First Aid, find that scanner and you can find him." He'd neglected his patients long enough. The pain in his leg was still a throb but the deepest part of the wound was healed enough he could make his rounds. Wheeljack's paint peeling curse followed him out.

Grapple looked up, startled, until he saw Ratchet and then he just sighed. The frontliner he was tending to grinned. "Charts," Ratchet said ignoring Grapple's sigh and irritated look. Wheeljack stalked out of the office and into the hallway to begin his search. With another sigh the secondary medic sent him the data. "Do you know where First Aid went or where the frag the tag scanner is?" Ratchet asked before he started going through the files. "And where's Windfall?"

Grapple looked startled again. It was an interesting trait he had as a medic, he was easily surprised but his hands were steady as time. Even now as he changed bandages the surprise on his face didn't translate to the slow and steady wrapping his hands were doing. "He's not with you anymore?" Concern laced his voice. "I don't know, I've been here all morning, I haven't seen him." The frontliner wasn't grinning anymore but looking between the two medics with his own brand of concern. The mechs and femmes had taken a great liking to the small apprentice after they heard what he'd done during the battle. "And I Hoist has the scanner. Twins are on quarters restriction and he's been making sure they keep to it." Before Ratchet could comm. his other medic Grapple said. "He's been up all night with Windfall. I'll go pick it up as soon as I finish here. Windfall is with Kup so Hoist can get a joor of recharge." He sounded weary.

Sighing and nodding he opened his comm. link and contacted Blaster. _Blaster, First Aid is missing. Wheeljack could use some help locating him._

There was a second's hesitation and Ratchet heard the quiet click as another line was added and then the mech's raspy voice was on the line. _I have First Aid. Hangar communications talking to Helios. I'll return him once they're finished._

Wheeljack's voice was no longer angry and full of relief. _Heard_.

"Blaster is with him talking to that pit spawn Helios," Ratchet told Grapple. "Leave the scanner with Hoist so he can watch the Twins." The younger mech snorted and nodded, his shoulders relaxed. Wheeljack returned to the med bay and glared at Ratchet. Ratchet glared back. Like tectonic plates grinding against each other, eventually one would have to give and bow out. Ratchet was CMO and in his med bay. He wasn't backing down. The set of Wheeljack's shoulders and the angry pulse of purple in his fins told Ratchet this would be a protracted battle, but he wasn't about to take orders from the engineer in _his_ med bay.

The moment stretched, Ratchet ignored all but Wheeljack glowering right back at him. The purple darkened a shade, Ratchet's optics narrowed. The fin on Wheeljack's head started to rise and Ratchet answered in kind. Wheeljack growled, Ratchet hissed.

**oOo**

"She killed three mechs. On purpose. She killed them," First Aid said staring at the floor. Maybe he wasn't as alike as his creator. He was certain he had killed more. Maybe that would have made her proud. His tanks churned and he wished he'd never gone looking for her. Better the faceless, nameless phantom who had comforted him all these vorns than the nightmare he had uncovered.

Helios was quiet for a long moment while First Aid stared at the floor, misery weighing so heavy on his spark he didn't have the strength to lift his head. "Love, I promise, those three mechs aren't worth your pain. They got an easier lot than she did." First Aid flinched. He wasn't certain what he'd been expecting but that blunt statement was not it.

_You can mourn them._

He wanted Ratchet more than before. He just wanted the big mech to stand with him for a few breems until everything stopped hurting. "They didn't deserve to die," First Aid said softly. "How could she live with herself?" The deaths he had caused, unintentional as they'd been, made him sick. She'd intentionally taken three lives and from all court documents was unrepentant right up to the end. She hadn't cared at all that she'd sent three sparks back to the Well.

And it seemed Helios didn't care either. But he was a medic. He was supposed to care. Do No Harm. It was the first line of the oath he'd taken as an apprentice. It was the same first line Helios had sworn to upon becoming a full-fledged medic. _Do No Harm_. "Do no harm," he said.

"Sometimes, if you want to fix the problem you must cause harm," Helios countered. First Aid flinched back from that. "It's not so different from setting a broken strut or fixing a dislocated joint. There's no easy way to do it, you're going to harm your patient no matter how gentle you are." Was his philosophical reasoning.

"There's a severe difference between pain and harm," Ratchet's low voice snapped. First Aid jumped and turned around too fast. Blaster caught him before he could overbalance. And then Ratchet's warm frame was next to him and First Aid leaned against him both worried about his leg and glad beyond measure that the old medic was with him.

Helios narrowed his optics. "Can I help you, Ratchet?"

"How long will you be in range?" Ratchet asked in his usual brusque tone but his optics were dark and he was blinking more often than he usually did. First Aid found the bandage on his leg and matched what he'd learned from Ratchet's file to Ahnkmorian anatomy.

"You shouldn't be able to stand," he blurted out. "Wheeljack wrote that the shrapnel went through your…lateral…cabling," he said trailing off into a squeak and flushing with heat. Ratchet looked down at him and arched an optic ridge and First Aid wished the floor would swallow him.

"Redundancy cabling, any medic who's been on the field more than an orn has it," Ratchet said. "First Aid needs to go back to his berth, how long are you in range?" Ratchet asked Helios.

The smaller mech gave First Aid a lopsided smile. "Two septorns while we resupply. I'll talk to you again soon, Love." First Aid whispered a goodbye and looked up at Ratchet before looking down at his feet.

"Come on, Wheeljack will be back soon and if that pit-cursed son of a pleasure mech puts another sedative in me I'll throw him out a damned airlock." Blaster snickered. First Aid walked with Ratchet, keeping close to his side as they walked across the empty space. Ratchet glanced around once before his optics settled on the door and didn't move.

Wheeljack spotted them in the hallway and an angry growl rumbled through the air. "Patient," Ratchet said not at all put off by the sound even when First Aid balked.

"Ratchet—"

"I don't keep you from your function, don't think for a glitched second you will keep me from mine," Ratchet hissed, the venomous sound startling First Aid again. Wheeljack's growl cut off abruptly and he crossed his arms, fins fluctuating from purple to red. First Aid ducked his head when they passed the engineer and pressed closer to Ratchet's side.

"Berth," Ratchet said once they were past the door, Wheeljack's angry presence behind them. First Aid couldn't run, not yet, but he walked as fast as he could to get away from the angry Kalisian. He didn't know Wheeljack was capable of being that angry. It was almost as frightening as Ratchet's temper.

He would admit that being back on his berth felt nice. His body, unaccustomed to standing for so long, relaxed thankfully under the covers but even while recharge teased the fringe of his mind, his thoughts swirled around his creator. "Ratchet?" he ventured softly when the medic limped by. He stopped and gave First Aid his full attention, a high powered scan washing over his frame. "Do…you remember your medical oath?"

"Of course," he said in a soft tone. "Why?" His optics were darker than they had been and First Aid had a feeling his self-repair was going to put him on the floor sooner than later.

"I…it's nothing," First Aid said softly. Ratchet still had other patients in the med bay he needed to get to before self-repair put him under. Ratchet canted his head to the side, those eagle optics focused wholly on First Aid. First Aid struggled not to fidget under the intense scrutiny. It would be easier not to squirm under a welder.

Hoist came in for his shift looking like he hadn't recharged in two orns until he spotted Ratchet. An exasperated sigh was the only noise he uttered. Ratchet canted his head when he heard the sound but kept his dark optics on First Aid. "Ratchet, if you don't get on a berth self-repair will put you on the floor and I'm not of a mind to move you," Hoist said. An annoyed scowl crossed Ratchet's face but his legs weakened enough he had to stumble a step to catch himself. First Aid could see Hoist's I-Told-You-So look even if Ratchet couldn't.

"How do you override your self-repair?" First Aid asked, curiosity suddenly too great to stifle.

Ratchet's laugh was tired and without much humor. "Manual code overwrite. And no," he said, when First Aid sat up a bit more, "I'm not telling you how. You're too young." First Aid slumped back with a soft sigh. Wheeljack came up behind Ratchet and faster than First Aid thought possible, the medic whipped around and grabbed Wheeljack's wrist before the Kalisian could put a sedative in him and jabbed him with the a different syringe he pulled from a hip compartment.

Wheeljack yelped and flailed for a breem before the sedative started to put him under. "I'm…I'm gonna beat you," Wheeljack slurred as he slumped into recharge. Hoist sighed again and continued his rounds. Ratchet didn't let Wheeljack fall to the floor but hoisted him up and walked to a berth to drop the engineer off.

"Why…why do you have a sedative?" First Aid asked when Wheeljack was snoring softly on his berth. Ratchet rubbed the back of Wheeljack's neck and his optics flashed with scans as he looked over the recharging mech.

Satisfied Wheeljack was all right Ratchet turned around and braced against the berth to look at First Aid. "I always do. Two things you should have on you at all times; a wrench and a sedative." One of the frontliners laughed but Hoist pulled a syringe and a wrench from a leg compartment and the mech blinked in surprise.

With visible effort Ratchet pushed away from Wheeljack's berth and came over to sit on the edge of First Aid's. "Did you find a match for your creator?" Ratchet asked in a soft voice that didn't carry. First Aid flinched back and curled in on himself. Ratchet blinked but didn't comment on the reaction. "What's wrong, mechling?" he asked, even though his optics darkened another shade and his gaze unfocused for a second before they brightened again. Another override. Ratchet should be recharging.

"Nothing," First Aid answered dropping his optics to the berth. He didn't have to see Ratchet's face to know he had raised an optic ridge at that obvious lie. But he didn't say anything. He just waited. First Aid kept his optics on the berth but the weight of Ratchet's stare stayed on him.

He endured the stare for two breems before he picked up the datpad and handed it to Ratchet. And he still didn't look up while Ratchet read. He expected some kind of noise; a gasp or perhaps one of the low sounds he occasionally made when he was thinking. But Ratchet didn't say anything, he just set the datpad to the side and that stare returned to him.

First Aid lasted only another breem before he looked up to see Ratchet's expression. Ratchet still watched him with expectant silence like he hadn't just read about First Aid's creator killing three mechs. "She killed mechs," First Aid whispered, the sick feeling getting worse the longer he thought about it.

Ratchet nodded. "That doesn't mean she didn't love you." Tears suddenly blurred First Aid's vision like they'd been waiting for an excuse to appear. And those soft words ripped at his sore spark. He couldn't make the tears stop or his spark stop aching. Ratchet's warm hand stroked the top of his head and gently pulled him close.

"She's so terrible," First Aid whispered. "But I still wish she was here."

"She did something terrible," Ratchet said softly. "That doesn't make her terrible. First Aid," Ratchet said leaning back against the wall. First Aid only glanced up at him to show he was listening. He kept his audio against Ratchet's chest. "This war is all you've known. From your first breath there have been Autobots and Decepticons, the lines already drawn. But I remember a time, and your creator would have known a time, when 'war' was just a term we learned in school and forgot about."

First Aid sniffled a little and tried to imagine what Ratchet was talking about. He was right though, First Aid had known for as long as he could remember that they were in a war. He couldn't envision a world without Autobots and Decepticons. "When this…all of this, when it started, we didn't know what to do." Ratchet said, stroking the top of his head again. "We were like sparklings in a burning building. Some hid, some tried to find a bucket of water, and others tried to find a way out." Ratchet sighed and the sound took something out of him. First Aid felt him slump a little. "It was a mess and for a while it was…easy to believe, to buy into the ones who said they had an easy solution. The mechs and femmes who said they could make things like they had been."

Ratchet's work roughened fingers gently tilted his head up. "Your creator wasn't a bad femme, First Aid. She was frightened, like all of us. And someone told her they could fix things, they could make things right again, and that kind of hope was enough to make her do things she may not have otherwise done."

First Aid's tears slowed and Ratchet kept a warm arm around him. "I promised to do no harm," he whispered. There were other ways to fix problems. Ways that didn't cost innocent mechs their lives.

Ratchet was quiet for a breem. "Yes," he said slowly. "That doesn't mean you can't love her either." First Aid shrank back from that. How could he allow himself to miss, much less love, her when what she had done was an affront to everything he believed in. Ratchet said, "You're friends with Bluestreak, aren't you?" First Aid blinked and hesitated before nodding not sure where that had come from. "Bluestreak is a sniper. The twins are melee frontliners. Those pit spawns Ruff and Tuff are frontliners, too. You care about all of them, right?" First Aid nodded again. He hadn't thought about that, or maybe he hadn't wanted to think about it. He cared about them a great deal and they had all certainly killed far more mechs than his creator. That made his spark hurt, but denying the truth wouldn't change it. If he could love the Twins and Bluestreak and Ruff and Tuff and Jupiter and all the others, then he could love his creator as well.

His shoulders relaxed a little at a time and he nodded. Ratchet's hand brushed across the side of his head and First Aid took two short breaths instead of the deep one he wished he could take. "Thank you," he said softly. "For making it better."

"That's what medics are for."

**oOo**

**A/N:** Okay, this is quite a bit longer than I thought it would be so next chapter we'll see Windfall's send off and talk to Helios again and maybe learn some dirty secrets.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!


	14. Chapter 14

The merchant vessel docked a joor early for which Ratchet was grateful. It gave him a chance to drill the onboard medic on Windfall's condition. His cabling relaxed slightly when the femme didn't mince words telling him she knew how to handle mechs in Windfall's condition. She was quick and brusque in both actions and words and the way the crew snapped to when she shouted orders said she was used to running much larger bays than the ship's.

Windfall remained listless and mostly unresponsive, staring at a spot on the floor. Ratchet had explained to him that he was going back to Cybertron but the words seemed to bounce off deaf audios. Kup stood on his other side watching the young mech with a mask of cool professionalism expertly hiding his feelings.

First Aid had wanted to come down and apologize to Windfall for being mean. Ratchet couldn't fathom how one could be nice when the triage had become such a supernova of glitch ups, but the little mech fretted over Windfall's hurt feelings incessantly. He'd almost given in and let the small mech come, but after asking Hoist how Windfall was doing, nixed the idea. If First Aid was this upset and he hadn't seen Windfall since the battle, the mechling would have a fit if he saw him now.

The ship medic came over with sharp precise steps, but she took Windfall's hand with gentleness. "Come on, mechling. You're with me in the aft end of this rust bucket." Windfall blinked and looked up and for the first time seemed to realize he was in the hangar. He looked back at Ratchet in confusion that was slowly returning to apathy.

"You're going back to Cybertron," Ratchet explained patiently. "They're better equipped to help you there than any of us are out here." Windfall nodded absently and when the medic tugged on his hand he obediently followed.

"You're certain it's not coding corruption?" Kup asked watching the juvenile follow the medic still staring at the floor.

Ratchet sighed and rubbed his optics. "There's going to be some, but not so much he can't pull himself out of it. You know that, Kup," he added a touch irritably.

The older mech drummed his fingers against his thigh. "I work with frontliners, Ratchet, not often I see medics get that shook up. Didn't know if it was any different."

Ratchet conceded that point. "No, the triggers are different, but the treatment isn't. His recovery is mostly up to him. There's only so much anyone else can do to pull him out of this."

The decompression alarms sounded and Kup and Ratchet moved back into the ship proper to watch the merchant vessel leave. The massive hangar doors opened smoothly and the dim blue light of engines warming up flooded the hangar in eerie light. "Well, world doesn't stop for any of us," Kup said, back to his usual gruff manner. He put a heavy hand on Ratchet's shoulder for a second before leaving to resume his duties. Ratchet stayed a breem longer, until the ship was clear of the hangar, and then rolled his shoulders and made himself walk to the med bay without looking back.

First Aid was up and watching for him when he returned to the med bay, his sparkling blue optics full of worry. "He has someone to watch over him, First Aid," he said in a voice stronger than he felt. Grapple sat next to the juvenile with an arm around his shoulders and a chart balanced on his leg where First Aid could also see it. "What are you looking at?" Ratchet asked redirecting the juvenile's attention and worry.

Grapple sighed and his shoulders slumped a little. "Red Rum's chart. We're losing him," he said softly. Ratchet lifted his chin a fraction, weariness from Windfall's departure bleeding off him. The med bay was Ratchet's domain, and until Primus himself came down and took the spark, it was Ratchet that decided who they were losing and who they weren't.

Striding over to the pair he picked up the chart and skimmed it briefly. The mech was in bad shape. Ratchet cursed his leg. If he'd been able to stand he could've done the initial surgery himself. Hoist was a damn good medic, but he was young, and some things a medic learned only by seeing them in the field or losing a patient to them.

"The spark casing is bad," First Aid said softly, "but it's the bleeding that's doing more harm, isn't it?" Ratchet glanced up at the young mech, the worry on his face was the same as it had been when Ratchet walked in. He reconsidered how concerned the mechling was about Windfall. Certainly he'd been nursing a guilty conscience for a few orns, but Red Rum's immediate problem seemed to supersede whatever personal issues he was having.

"Yes," Ratchet said after a few seconds where he scanned the newest notes Grapple had added. "Keeping energon in the lines is as important as keeping the spark pulsing. With him constantly losing energon his spark has to work harder to pump what energon is left and that puts a strain on his spark which puts strain on all his other systems."

First Aid nodded, not as if what Ratchet said was new information, but like it verified what he already knew. "That's what Helios said, too. But I didn't know if it was different with something as severe as a cracked casing."

Ratchet lowered the chart a fraction, Red Rum's condition still taking most of his attention, but a small piece of his mind recalled that First Aid hadn't mentioned Helios since their last communication. "His injuries are complicated. Helios is still in range." He didn't imply anything else, just watched the juvenile.

First Aid blinked at the abrupt topic change and then his cephalic fins flattened. "I know…I just…I don't know." He looked down at the berth, his worry turning to sadness. Ratchet looked back at Red Rum's chart and flipped back to the first page of notes and treatment. It was best to see which systems started declining first as they could usually give a clue to the underlying problem. He still had some of his focus on First Aid and his new hesitance to contact Helios. He waited. For whatever reason, most mechs thought he was impatient. Anymech that had been on the receiving end of Ratchet's patience would disagree.

"I told him about my creator," First Aid said after a few breems. Ratchet's optics flicked up but the mechling was still staring at the berth. Grapple slid an arm around his shoulders again. "But he…he didn't, he didn't seem to care. Maybe not care, but…he…it felt like he thought she did something good. And I don't know…I don't know."

Ratchet listened to First Aid, but his attention was drawn back to Red Rum, fighting for his spark. The mech was still bleeding into his internals from somewhere but neither Hoist nor Grapple had been able to find where. And his energon was thin, but with a cracked spark case they had been hesitant to give him a coagulant. "Ironically, Mechs of Mercy aren't known for their mercy," Ratchet said. He could give Red Rum a small dose of coagulant, just to slow the bleeding in his internals until the spark casing—

"What's that?" First Aid asked.

The same instant Grapple said, "Ratchet!"

Ratchet blinked and looked up from the chart. It was more Grapple's loud voice than the sharp tone that startled him. Even at the peak of battle Grapple was soft spoken. He gave his secondary medic an incredulous look, 'What?"

"What's a Mech of Mercy?" First Aid repeated. Ratchet blinked again and thought back to what he'd said and just about slammed his head against a berth.

Grapple crossed his arms, still glaring at Ratchet. "Well, you opened the door, might as well walk on through." First Aid looked back and forth between them curiously and with a bit of trepidation.

Ratchet sighed and rubbed his forehead. "A Mech of Mercy," Ratchet said struggling to carefully choose his words. He wasn't a politician like the Prime, there was no time for subtly in medicine and it wasn't a trait he'd ever cultivated. "Is, was, a…medic, a type of medic, that _thought_ they had a way to end the war early on."

Trying not to groan at the unfairness that he was the one who had to answer the question Ratchet looked up at the ceiling. His next words were going to shock First Aid no matter he said them, but he had to choose the best ones to cushion the blow so he and Helios didn't have a falling out. Given the mechling's reaction to his creator, Ratchet had a sinking feeling he was about to break whatever it was First Aid and Helios had. "They found a way to bypass or corrupt their Do No Harm coding enough they could carry out strategic political assassinations." There, that didn't sound so bad.

First Aid made a high sound caught between pain and surprise. Next to Grapple's bulky Simfur frame he looked very much like a sparkling staring at Ratchet with wide disbelieving optics. Maybe he shouldn't have used the word 'assassinations' but he didn't think 'murder' would be any better. "Why?" First Aid asked in a tiny frightened voice.

Ratchet sighed and sat down on his other side. Dissertations could be written on that one question and still no one would have an answer. "I don't know, mechling," he said, leaning back against the wall. First Aid curled against his side. "I don't know."

**oOo**

First Aid walked through the halls slowly, winding his way around to the bridge where Blaster was on communications and probably bored and looking for something to do, and no matter his reputation as a gossip glitch, he wouldn't tell everyone about the conversation. All of that was according to Bluestreak who'd stopped by the med bay on his way to his room after pulling an overnight shift. Frist Aid wished the young Praxian was with him. And at the same time he didn't want anyone else to hear the conversation he had to have with Helios. He almost wished Blaster wouldn't be there.

But wishful thinking wouldn't get him anything but a processor ache and this was probably the only chance he would have to speak with Helios in relative privacy. Ratchet still wasn't keen on him wandering by himself, but while he was in surgery trying to save Red Rum's spark he didn't have the time or medics to spare to keep an optic on him. Guilt burned through his spark for using Red Rum to cover his escape. He soothed himself only a little by reminding himself that he didn't have the skills or knowledge to help the mech.

He stopped outside the bridge door for a breem just staring at the metal before he pulled his shoulders back and sent a questioning ping to Blaster. The door slid open a second later and he crept in, self-confidence fleeing and anxiety digging in. The bridge was quiet in the early morning.

"What's got you cranked tight, lil' mech?" Blaster asked lounging back in his chair and watching First Aid mostly from the corner of his optic instead of turning his head. First Aid fidgeted and stared at the floor torn between wanting to cry, scream, and purge his tanks. He settled by telling himself he didn't know anything for certain yet, only what Ratchet had told him. It could still be a misunderstanding. Things like that happened a lot. Sitting down next to Blaster like the chair might wake up and try to eat him he tucked his feet close to the base and gripped his elbows.

"I don't know yet," he whispered. The mech gave him more of his attention while Steeljaw covered communications. Lockjaw sat on Blaster's lap watching him with her fractured diamond optics with the same trace of worry Blaster had. First Aid wished again he could be alone for this conversation, but he didn't know anything about communications and if Soundwave slipped into the system while he was fumbling around things would go horribly wrong very fast. "Is Helios still close?" he asked softly. Lockjaw purred softly and looked down at Steeljaw. With a wide yawn the lion waited for Blaster to type in the encryption and then sent the signal.

First Aid distracted himself watching Steeljaw work. "Can Steeljaw run the whole console without you?" he asked Blaster. Lockjaw snorted and Steeljaw gave him a toothy grin.

Blaster's snort matched Lockjaw's. "Not reliably." Steeljaw nipped his leg. Blaster knocked him to the side. "He does a'ight when there's nothin' happenin'. But we get an SOS or Soundwave tries to get in and we'll be fragged four ways." Steeljaw didn't argue that but swatted at Blaster's swinging foot each time it passed him. "I got the advantage," Blaster said lifting his hands and wiggling his fingers. "I can hit ten buttons with no problem; Steeljaw's only got two paws. He can hack if he's got the time, but Soundwave usually in't real courteous wit' things like that." Lockjaw made a low sound in her chest that sounded like a chuckle and Steeljaw huffed.

A quiet beep announced the signal had been received and answered. Helios appeared on the screen a few seconds later, golden optics serene as always. First Aid had always thought it impossible to willfully corrupt the Do No Harm coding. He felt if Helios had in some way managed to do it there should be something in his optics that hinted at it. But he was calm as ever. "Hello, Love. What's wrong?"

"Hi, Helios." First Aid looked at the floor more than he did the screen, hyperaware of Blaster sitting next to him who had gone silent and still as a statue. It was strange and a little creepy since he knew how active Blaster usually was. Even Steeljaw and Lockjaw had gone quiet and still. "I…When I told you about my creator, you didn't really seem to care about…what she did," he said slowly. Once again he wasn't certain if he wanted to scream or cry or purge his tanks. Maybe he'd feel better if he did all three.

Helios sighed, "Love, I've been around a long time and seen Pit near everything mechs and femmes can do to each other, good and bad. Makes me a bit jaded." First Aid frowned and the tank purging feeling started to win out over the crying feeling. He took a deep breath and felt his chest stretch uncomfortably but words didn't come. In the quiet he was more aware than ever of Blaster next to him and the feeling of needing to scream started to win out over everything else.

"I promise Love, whatever it is you want to say you'll not shock me. The only one who can still do that is Prowl." There was a laugh in Helios' voice and First Aid thought there was a good story behind that. And part of him wanted to return to the _Prowler_ and Helios and curl up in the rec room and listen to stories again and pretend like he didn't know anything different. The other part knew he couldn't live in willful ignorance.

"Are you a Mech of Mercy?" he asked, unaware he'd spoken until the words were out. They were so soft Helios might not have heard them. Blaster, already stone still, stiffened just a little. He almost covered his audios so he didn't have to hear Helios' answer. Then he could say he'd gotten an answer but he didn't have to know what it was. He could go back to the _Prowler_ and pretend like everything was all right. He could sit with Helios and listen to the story of what Prowl did that shocked him and laugh with Jupiter and listen to Ruff and Tuff wrestle around. Swift and Clip would argue over cards and Freakshow would tell both of them they didn't know how to play the game anyway. He could go back. He could stay with them and pretend he didn't know.

"Yes," Helios said bluntly, but in a soft voice like First Aid's. The words still kicked right through his spark. He flinched back like he'd been shot. How could Helios hurt mechs? He was a medic, he wasn't supposed to hurt anyone. _Do No Harm_. He took in a thin breath. If he stopped breathing now he'd start a coughing fit if he tried to drag in a breath.

"Why?" First Aid cried, the sound like a tiny mewl of a newsparked animal. The world was blurry through the fluid in his optics. It wasn't right. Helios wasn't supposed to hurt mechs, he was supposed to help them. How could he call himself a medic and then turn around and hurt those he was sworn to protect? That wasn't just coding corruption, it was a complete bypass, a breakdown in everything that should have made him a medic. And he was a medic. He was such a good medic. He'd kept First Aid alive when even Ratchet said he probably should have died. He'd taught him so much about helping others. How could he? How could he do it?

A flicker of pain ghosted through Helios' golden optics. "I told you when spoke about your creator; sometimes to save the patient you have to cause harm."

And Ratchet had said there was a difference between harm and pain. Setting broken struts caused pain, but it didn't harm the patient, it helped them. How could killing innocent mechs and femmes ever help anyone? First Aid shook his head once hard enough to shake tears loose. "Harm is willful violence," he said, trying hard not to sound accusing. "Pain comes from healing." And he was in so much pain now. Was that healing or was it harm? How was he supposed to tell the difference between the two when he didn't know if he was talking to a medic or a murderer?

"Fixing a society is not as easy as fixing a body, First Aid," Helios said. "Sometimes, willful violence is the only way to solve the problem." First Aid hugged himself close. He refused to believe that. There were others ways to fix things. There was more than one way to set a strut and there was more than one way to stop bleeding. None of them involved killing the patient.

He looked up and the screen was dark, the signal cut from the other side. He blinked and like a thunderstorm all the confused emotions came roaring back. Grief too large for his small frame poured out of him. He'd spent his life since he could remember trying to imagine what Home would feel like. And he'd finally felt it, what it was to feel warm and welcome. It was in Jupiter's rough hugs and Ruff and Tuff yelling at each other from across the ship and Corona's gossipy laugh when she talked to Swift and Cairn in the morning.

And he thought he'd finally found someone, a medic, who felt like he did; a medic who just wanted to help. More than anything, he'd felt at home with Helios. Those late nights he'd curled up next to the medic in the rec room listening to the warm roll of his laugh as the others argued and laughed and played. All the orns in the med bay together listening to his soft voice explain theories and treatment options. He'd had false hope before, but it had never lasted so long. He'd never let it last long enough to fracture his spark. He'd been so close this time. He'd been so close to Home.

_Here you are and here you'll stay._

**oOo**

Ratchet listened to the small mech cry and silently berated himself and his glitch-cursed mouth. He wasn't entirely sure how First Aid managed to curl up on his lap like a sparkling and it felt a little awkward to him. But First Aid seemed to be taking some comfort from him so he didn't try to move him. Stroking the top of First Aid's head he looked down at the little mech and tried to think of something to pull him out of the spark of his misery. He'd already told him Red Rum was in recovery. He didn't want to pursue that line of thought though, the mech had survived surgery, that didn't mean he'd survive the night.

First Aid tiny cries softened to hiccups and his head moved enough his audio pressed against Ratchet's chest. Ratchet leaned back and the small mech relaxed more. His spark pulse was still elevated and his pressure high so he hadn't fully cried himself out but his healing body couldn't handle anymore. Ratchet kept an arm around his waist and the other stroking his head. His short breaths came hard and fast and were periodically interrupted by a hiccup and fresh tears. He needed to find something for the little mech to do. He'd already tried to get ahold of Wheeljack thinking the scientist could come down for a couple breems and talk about, well, anything. But the ping had come back emergency only.

He needed something productive for the mechling to channel his feelings into. Might as well start First Aid with good habits so he didn't pick up Ratchet's horrible habit of drinking. Staring at the ceiling he tried to think of something the juvenile could do. He'd cleared his appointments for the orn since he hadn't known how long he would be in surgery. So there wouldn't be any firewalls to deal with and Grapple and Hoist had made it clear that since he started the problem it was his to solve.

A ping on his comm. alerted him to a consultation he'd all but forgotten about between Red Rum and First Aid. Relief hit him harder than he would admit. "Come on, mechling," he said softly. "I've got to review some scans of a fractured Praxian wing and tell the surgeons how to fix it." First Aid sniffled again and pressed closer like he was afraid Ratchet would leave him. Tilting his head a little Ratchet frowned wondering how exactly Helios had dealt with First Aid's question. He had assumed the other medic would at least _try_ to let the little mech down easy but First Aid was as insecure and fearful as a kicked j'ru.

When Ratchet didn't make any move to push him off or move he tilted his head up, optics shimmering with fluid. Brushing away a few stray tears with his thumb Ratchet cursed himself again for ever opening his mouth when discussing Helios. Especially when he hadn't been paying attention to what he was saying. It was yet another painful lesson to be filed in the overstuffed Hard Learned file. Shifting his hold, he stood up with First Aid cradled against his chest and carefully set the small mech's feet on the floor. "Come on, they've just sent the scans."

First Aid stopped clinging to him like he was going to be dragged away and instead slipped under Ratchet's arm. Ratchet rubbed his shoulder with his thumb while they walked to the office. The rigidness in First Aid's shoulders started to leave. "Stress fracture or impact?" he asked in a still somewhat teary voice. Relief had a smile twitching Ratchet's face but he didn't give in.

"That's what we need to find out. Now, what do you know about the differences in Vosian and Praxian wings?"

**oOo**

Leaning against the wall in Red Alert's quarters Blaster kept his optics closed as he felt the quiet vibrations in his spark bond with Helios. Usually it was a soft hum in his spark, something hardly there but substantial enough to give him comfort. It was alive now as others that shared a spark bond with the old medic sensed something not quite right. His voice sounded the same, but deep in the place no one could see and only a few could feel there was an echo of pain.

"How is the little mech?" Helios asked, the tremor in Blaster's spark more pronounced for just a second before it subsided. Blaster opened on optic to watch Helios. Tracks lounged on Red Alert's berth but didn't give his usual flippant comment. Blaster didn't think compassion had survived the glitch, but there was something in him that recognized he would cause Helios pain if he spoke now.

Prowl crooned softly. The soothing sound brought a wry smile to Helios' lips. It wasn't often he was the one comforted. And it was even rarer that Prowl be the one to offer that comfort. Helios was certainly special to the half-feral mech. "Ratchet has him sufficiently distracted with a consultation he's working on," Red Alert said softly. The tremor in Blaster's spark settled more, falling back to something closer to its normal hum. Tracks relaxed a bit more too and rolled over on his back to stare at the ceiling.

"Good. Make sure he'll be all right," he added softly. Blaster sent a pointed twinge through the bond and Helios laughed. "I know you will, but it makes me feel better to say it." Prowl stretched his wings and his back in much the same way Steeljaw and Lockjaw did. The curve along his arches looked sharp enough to cut and along the sweeping curves at the bottom the ends were ragged from abuse over the vorns. Nicks and scratches and tears and burns and cuts, Prowl's wings had felt it all and more. He sat down on the floor looking very much like the great marsh lions that had roamed the open plains. Coal red optics focused on Helios expectantly. The last of Helios' pain was either buried deeper than Blaster could reach or naturally faded. He laughed softly. "Yes, and now to the business at hand."

Red Alert reclined against Prowl, one black and scarred wing settling over him protectively and perhaps a bit possessively. Blaster thought about trying to pull Red Alert out from under the embrace. Maybe later. They didn't have all orn to make this call, but he did have all orn to irritate Prowl.

Tracks rolled onto his chest with innate grace that made him a force of nature on the battlefield. His almost white optics were focused on Helios and a small smile curved his lips. His freshly polished armor gleamed in the low light Red Alert and Prowl preferred. He was the picture of sensuality. Optics frigid as Kaonian winter and the hint of fang in his smile promised a little death of the slowest kind. "Diamond Fire," he purred sounding very much like Lockjaw when she found a rodent to play with.

Helios glanced at Prowl with a fond smile. Blaster always wondered what the medic saw when he looked at the two Sonics. He knew Helios cared for them all, but there was history between him and the two mechs with fire and lightning optics. "Turns out his bondmate is, shall we say, a novice when it comes to herb lore." Warmth left his smile, instead it became hard and sharp. Prowl snorted. His usual response to anything the elites and high class did.

"Herbs?" Tracks said, confusion wrinkling his brow.

"A subtle poison," Red Alert answered without looking away from the small tablet Helios was on. Tracks sighed and dropped his head into his arms clearly no longer as interested in the conversation. Blaster reached over and rubbed the back of his neck while he listened to Helios lay out the ridiculously simple plan.

"Jupiter is already on her way to the colony. The femme likes to frequent garden shows and classes and seminars and everything else. It won't be hard for Jupiter to make friends." Blaster laughed, his hoarse voice twisting the sound. Jupiter never had trouble making friends. It was keeping them alive that always became the problem. Helios' mouth twitched in a smile. "Freakshow has foregone a concrete timeline, but he's confident—and so am I—that Diamond Fire will be dead in two kels."

Tracks perked up again, the fangs in his smile more pronounced. "That'll hurt." He snapped his teeth together and bared them, no longer a smile but a threat. "Prime doesn't have a lot of family left, you think it'll kill him?"

Helios shrugged. "One way to find out."

**oOo**

**A/N:** Tada! First installment of _Street True_ is done!

I have no idea how many stories will be in this AU, at least five more. Each story will be centered around a different character. Thus far the characters that will absolutely have stories are: Red Alert and Prowl, Blaster, Optimus and Ironhide, Helios, and Tracks.

Thank you all for reading and your wonderful reviews, they always put a smile on my face! :)


	15. Always

"_There isn't a cure!" The mech coughs, ragged and thick with fluid._

"_It isn't a cure, it's a vaccine," the other medic hisses. All around them coughing mechs and femmes rock on the plague ship they've been thrown on. The sickness isn't advanced, most recharge with slight fevers and coughs. They have to keep their conversation quiet._

_A femme with sparkling round features holds a tiny bundle close to her chest. "Will it work?"_

_The coughing mech makes an angry sound and gasps, "where did you even get it?"_

"_From Helios. He's tested it. It seems stable."_

"_He-Helios? Primus, Sanctuary, are you a—"_

"_Does it matter anymore?" Sanctuary snaps. "I have the dose he gave me, I was supposed to be in a lab making more but the cowards put me here instead. I have enough for him."_

"_It could kill him!" he coughs again and staggers a step back trying to breathe._

"_He'll die if he doesn't get it," Sanctuary snaps._

"_Do it," the femme says. "Give it to him."_

"_Even vetted vaccines aren't given to newsparks, this could—"_

"_If I have to hold him while he dies, then I'll do it knowing I did everything I could," she snaps. "But I will not listen to him scream knowing there was a chance. The sons of smelters already took Falcon from me. If I can do anything to keep them from taking him I'll do it. Give it to him." Tears choke her voice and she holds the small bundle tight enough it squeaks. She whispers an apology and soothes the tiny newspark back into recharge. _

_The medic pulls out a small vial and syringe. "We have to get him off this boat. Not a dockworker out there is going to come aboard looking for survivors. They'll just burn it before it gets to port." _

_She presses a kiss to the newspark's head as the medic gives him the shot. "Rennin. They won't stop, but they'll slow enough we should be able to get him to someone on shore." The newspark fusses, not liking the shot, and she croons softly holding him against her chest where the warm pulse of her spark soothes him. "I love you," she whispers. "Always."_


End file.
